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et  de  haut  en  bas.  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessaire.  Lee  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 


MICROCOPY   RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


14.0 


13.6 


US 


KUu 


M 

1.8 


1.4 


^    x^PPLIED  IN/HGE    I 


nc 


1653  East  Main  Street 

Rochester,  New  York        14609       USA 

(716)   482  -0300 -Phone 

(716)   286-5989  -  Kox 


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/  Ct^-^ 


1 


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Ol 


(^K.^-^ 


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1 


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¥ 


WILLY  BURKE ; 


OR, 


THE  IRISH  ORPHAN  IN  AMERICA. 


BY 


MRS.    J.    SADLIER. 


id) 
0 


"  Let  not  ambition  mock  their  tisefal  toil, 
Their  homely  joys,  and  destiny  obscure; 
Nor  grandeur  hear  with  a  disdainful  smile, 
The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor." 


■Gray. 


BOSTON: 
THOMAS   B.    NOONAK   &  CO. 


1 


PEEFAOE. 


nnms  little  work  was  written  for  the  express 
-L  purpose  of  being  usefUl  to  the  young  sons  of 
my  native  land,  in  their  arduous  struggle  with  the 
tempter,  whose  nefarious  desig>'  of  bearing  them 
from  the  faith  of  their  fathers  .^  so  artfully  con- 
cealed under  every  possible  disguise.  The  most 
plausible  pretence  is,  that  men  make  their  way 
better  in  this  money-seeking  world,  by  becoming 
Protestants ;  and  the  fallacy  of  this  saying  I  have 
endeavored  to  show,  by  proving  that  a  man  may  be 
a  good  Catholic,  a  sincere  Christian, — and  yet 
obtain  both  wealth  and  honor  even  here  below. 
If  my  young  countrymen  would  all  take  Willy 
Burke  for  their  model  —  humble  as  he  is  —  I  will 
venture  to  promise  that  the  Irish  in  America  would 
soon  become  wealthy,  esteemed,  and  respected ;  for 
we  are  told  by  our  Divine  Master,  that  if  we  ♦•  seek 
first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  His  justice,  "all  things 
else  shall  be  added  thereto."  The  exiled  children 
of  Ireland  have  a  noble  part  to  play  over  all  the 
earth,  —  that  of  spreading  the  true  faith ;  and  they 
should  never  forget  that  this  glorious  prerogative 

(Ui) 


^   4 


iv 


PREFACE. 


V 


has  been  earner?  f^r.  *k 

«n<.  persecution  which  tTeir'^^'  "^^  "'  ''^"^"S 
for  the  sake  of  conscience  and  ',"'  ""''  *'"'"«'' 
Irish  Catholic  who  is  thll       ^''^°''-    !■«'  every 

jvide waste, remember ttol"  T'^''"  theworlc^s 
t™th,  and  practise  tie  lessrr„'H'"r"-'"P<"^'"« 
^pretending  pages.  °"  "^  "«  '^"""d  in  these 

Montreal,  ^Member,  im. 


\ 


\ 


WILLY   BURKE, 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    DEPARTURE    FROM     IRELAND,     AND    DEATH 

AT    SEA. 

TT  was  a  sorrowful  day  in  a  certain  parish  of 
-^  the.  county  Tipperary,  when  Andy  Burke, 
one  of  the  principal  farmers  of  the  district,  set 
out  with  his  numerous  family  for  "  the  land  of 
the  Far  West."  In  their  day  of  prosperity, 
Andy  Burke  and  his  worthy  helpmate  had 
been  public  benefactors  —  the  comforts  by 
which  they  were  surrounded  were  liberally 
shared  with  their  poorer  neighbors,  and  their 
house  had  ever  afforded  a  shelter  for  the  house- 
less wanderer.  Like  Goldsmith's  curate,  "  the 
long  remember'd  beggar  was  their  guest "  year 
after  j-ear,  and  the  warmest  nook  in  the  wide 
kitchen  was  ever  reserved  for  the  poor  way- 
farer. Their  children  had  grown  up  amid  the 
prayers  and  blessings  of  the  poor,  and  now 
when  the  hand  of  misfortune  weighed  heavily 
on  them  all  — when  the  good  farmer  found  it 


I 


WILLY   BURKE  ;    OR, 

icTr2tT'^''''''  ^'*  ^^^  '•'"""y  to  Amer. 

calaZvTn   ;i;ich   /hp"*  ,T  '■'°'"-"«'  "«  « 
shared/    U  those  dav,  f  °''    f  %hborhood 

iie  or  she  who  «<af  ^„^  ^         i      ,        "^  ^®'  ^'i<^' 

first  be  paid"  thf  ^"^  penalty  -  which  must 
country  ^;l'^a,?^,7°Jt''"  '■~'"  ''^"'^  »»<» 
e-g/rated  infeouths  o'/rS"^!"? "^ 

B>ake  it  an  „„dS„- o/  *r::t%MTr''  *? 
much  daneer  and  iri  r,      f        pifflc'ilty  and 

but  few  S^s  for  iiJ^"  b"*  T  "  ^^^'  *'  ^ad 
The  latter  eZciallvh^  ^"*^  °'"  '"«  ^i^. 
givings  as%:Te"efuIt  of  S'""'.,'''*'  ™'^- 

about  taking,  and  to  he  V  'v  as?  h?7^'"l 
scarcely  brins  her<iplf  Z  i    -T   2     ^"''  "O''^ 

hope.  It  was  the %.?;.,  ^  '"""^  ^'"'^"''^  ^vith 
departure  7hm  fit  "J^"^"""'"^  l^^fo™  their 
toletherlnmlTanS:,:!^  ?„S  -*  ''-» 
nwtter  so  often  discussed  befOTeT""^  "'"'  "'^ 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN    AMERICA. 


"  Well,  after  all,  Andy,"  said  his  wife,  "  I 
can't  help  thinkin'  that  it  would  have  been  as 
well,  ay,  an'  better,  for  us  to  stay  at  home, 
where,  if  we  came  to  trouble  or  desolation, 
we'd  have  the  old  neighbors  and  friends  about 
us  to  comfort  us." 

"An'  sure  there's  ne'er  a  one  knows  that 
better  than  myself,  Biddy,  asthore  machree,'* 
said  Andy,  as  he  took  the  pipe  from  his  mouth 
and  laid  it  on  the  hob  (i.  e.  back-stone)  beside 
him,  "  but  then,  as  I  often  told  you  before, 
this  poor  old  country's  growin'  every  day  worse 
an*  worse,  an'  where's  the  prospect  for  » large 
family  risin'  up  about  us  ?  Sure,  as  it  is  now, 
it's  just  all  we  can  do  to  pay  the  landlord  and 
the  tithe-proctor,  and  all  the  rest,  so  that  we're 
only  workin'  the  skin  off  our  bones  for  them 
that  doesn't  thank  us  ;  and  when  the  boys  an* 
the  girls  are  grown  up,  what  have  they  before 
them  here  but  a  life  of  hard  labor,  an'  nothin' 
for  it  —  that's  the  worst  of  all.  No,  no,  agra  ! 
for  their  sakes  we  must  go  to  the  strange  coun- 
try, while  we  have  a  little  money  in  our  hands ; 
for  if  we  waited  some  time  longer  it  'id  slip 
through  our  fingers,  and  leave  us  without  the 
means  of  goin'  anywhere." 

"  Well,  I  know  it's  all  true  enough,  Andy, 
dear,"  replied  Biddy  with  a  heavy  sigh,  "  an' 
I'm  not  the  one  to  gainsay  what  I  know  is 
God's  truth,  but  then  wouldn't  it  be  better  to 
live  in  poverty  here,  where  we  have  our  chapel 
an'  our  priest  within  a  mile  of  us  —  an'  where 


\i 


8 


^ILLV   BURKE  ;     OR, 


a  strange  country,  wherp  IL      "'*'"  «"  grand  in 
I'e  have  to  travel  hrnd>t^^''^'.'''-^J'°» 'J  "ay- 

°f  their  souls?    Js^il't  C  kV"'?^''^^^  the"Z' 
the  happiness  of  Hvin'  ?„  ^'^'T'"'  *>'  God,  an' 

t's  ye«elf  rf  X^,'^^"^;- true  enough,  an'  sure 
-"ekterV'tr  "A- tC  a^'  '^^ 

'^hich  stood  so  hio^h  j„  ??''«=tion  with  a  fam^Iv 
now  drawing  towfrd  "  t'  «?"«ation.    ft  ^^{ 
another  the  leiXrs  I?"'^^'  ''"^  one  after 
«ntl.r  saluting  the  priLf  ^'■^'''  ^"ch  one  wver 
a  friendly  wofd  o^  f^Tl    'r'ired  f^^K  '-''"^" 
mend  was  seated,  ifno^J^i         ^  ^''ere  some 
B"rte  fami,,.,  wh^  were  of  !.'  "''"'  ^"""^  of  the 
of  all  attention.    ArZJiu^'""'^^  the  objects 

te  ^  ^'-'o  «°nti  tJof'Z''^^  ^«arthC 
Jlurke  and  his  wife  an,7  f  ""  P'^'est,  Andv 
the  older  ne,^h}^ll  Ti  ^""^  ten  or  tw^lt  „^ 


sexes.    The 


re- 


*l 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  9 

mainder  of  the  large  kitchen  was  crowded  with 
young  people— boys  and  girls,  men  and  wo- 
men—while here  and  there  amongst  them 
might  be  seen  the  young  sons  and  daughters 
of  the  house,  each  forming  the  centre  of  a  little 
group.  And  the  children,  amazed  at  finding 
themselves  suddenly  so  important,  waxed  for- 
ward and  loquacious,  and  chatted  away  more 
flippantly  than  they  had  ever  done  before. 
About  nightfall  a  stir  was  visible  about  the 
door,  giving  reason  to  suppose  that  some  dis- 
tmguished  arrival  had  taken  place,  and  a  voice 
was  heard,  saying,  "Arrah,  then,  Tommy 
Cooney,  will  you  just  take  your  long  legs  out 
o'  the  master's  road?  Mrs.  Burke,  ma'am, 
here's  Master  Dogherty,  but  the  sorra  bit  o* 
him  can  get  in,  at  alFat  all ! "  A  way  was  in- 
stantly made  for  the  honored  guest,  and  Biddy 
herself  came  forward  with  both  hands  out- 
stretched, and  a  cordial  "God  save  j^ou,  mas- 
ter ! "  "  God  save  you  kindly,  Mrs.  Burke ! " 
was  the  old  man's  quick  reply,  as  she  led  him 
up  to  a  seat  beside  the  priest ;  "  sure  I  came  to 
see  the  last  of  the  boys  and  girls,  and  to  give 
ye  all  an  old  man's  blessing  —  where  are  the 
little  ones  ?  " 

"  Here,  master,"—  and  *'  here  "—  and  "  here " 
—  and  before  the  worthy  pedagogue  could  find 
time  to  make  a  suitable  reply  to  Father  Ma- 
loney's  friendly  salutation,  he  found  himself 
surrounded  by  the  younger  children,  four  in 
number,  while  the  two  elder,  a  boy  and  a  girl, 


10 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


knows,  this  famih- is  a  Stn  .1  ^T''  "  ^od 
for  old  and  youn  Jof  thPm  1  *^  ''■''°'''  P''"*. 
all -sure  Imavst-ul^'^  ""  "-^'"np'^  '<> 
away  from  2X17,1  l,Sn  f  fh  i-f"  *'"'-^'''«  going 
dreu  in  my  4ooi  "Vf  d"^'  °^  these  chil? 
ther  Malonev  I  In™/? k  *'*'''"'«'  *»  you,  Fa- 
own  flesh  and  blood  "       "  "'  '^  ^ey^er;  my 

Wolned^he^Uesf.'  .'^nd Vt'  ''"  ^"^"^-'^V' 
part,  to  wish  that  thev  ml  ""I?  °'''^''  *■<"■  ™V 
a  foreign  land,  as  gZd  an^dod  '""''  '''^"°-^" 
I  have  ever  found  them  'r^?K  "^,  •>"°''  "nd 
to  pray  that  0^1^;  soL  J'  '?k^  ^'  '^''^^ 
worthy  parents."         ^     '^^  *°  ^''e'n  their 

hert^  while  "ill'' vS'"'".r'''  faster  Do.- 
"ana  hoS  J:^„^°':^*'«d  with   emotioS, 

that  taught  /e  how  tr>  .^^1  *''®  P""""  "W  man 
-an'  that  ye'U  rememW  h?'°"'  P^^^'-books 
-an'  never  be  aXmtd  .^ '°  ^'°"'' P^''^'^^ 
they  say  some  grow  to^eh,^,^'""''  """""^'i'  »« 
of  being  born  i^Twor  oM  T^  f'''7^  ^  P^-ond 
was,  ay,''and  it  is?  the  IslL'^^^^^"".'  ^^^^^^  " 
above  all,  children  ve'll  h„    "'^^amts  ;  —  and 

"  '•engion  that  ye  learned  here  at 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN  IN   AMERICA. 


11 


home  ;  for  ye  may  be  sure  that  if  ye  forget  it, 
or  let  j'ourselves  be  drawn  awaj'  from  it,  ye 
have  iiQ  chance  for  happiness  in  the  worki  to 
come.  Think  of  this,  an*  remember  what  3'e 
have  often  heard  his  reverence  here  say  from 
the  altar,  that  "  there  is  but  the  one  thing  neces- 
sary.'* Each  of  ye  has  but  one  soul,  an*  if 
you  lose  it  what  will  become  of  you?" 

The  children  listened .  with  downcast  eyes, 
while  not  only  their  parents,  but  all  the  imme- 
diate auditors,  were  affected  even  to  tears  bj^ 
the  touching  solemnity  of  the  old  man's  ac- 
cents. Meanwhile  there  was  a  running  fire  of 
question  and  answer  going  on  at  the  lower  end 
of  the  kitchen.  Many  stories  were  told  of 
wonderful  fortunes  made  in  a  short  time  in 
America,  and  of  marvellous  adventures  which 
there  befell  sundry  persons  mentioned.  Ex- 
cited by  these  narratives,  jaany  of  the  young 
people  were  heard  to  wish  that  they  had  the 
means  of  going.  "  An*  it  isn't  the  money, 
either,  that  *id  keep  me  at  home,*'  said  one 
3'oung  fellow,  "  for,  with  God's  help,  I  could 
raise  as  much  an  'id  take  me,  but  then  the  old 
mother  yonder  'id  never  hear  of  my  goin*,  and 
troth,  if  it  wasn*t  for  her  I*d  be  off  with  the 
Burkes." 

"  An'  me  too,  Ned,"  cried  Larry  Gallagher, 
his  friend  and  neighbor,  "  only  my  father 
wouldn't  hear  tell  of  it  —  he  saj^s  it's  an  unnat- 
ural thing  to  leave  poor  old  Ireland,  where  we 
were  bred  an'  born,  an'  our  generations  afore 


^'^ 


12 


>^ILLY   burke;    OB, 


n 


-T'fl  have  mv  shn™^-  *i.  •*  'P''  America,' -_ an' 
What- bold  rwouli"'  ^°''''  °'"  ^'^  '^""'^  fo" 

packed  up ;  a^nd  ttongTthevTa  A'*''  '^T  '^'l 
with  genuine  Irish  larmS  .""^ ''"en  solicited 

selves  for  the  niX  on"!  •         ^'''*'^  *<^'n- 
'^ors,yet  they  Sined  thT„r'  °^  *••«  "^igh" 
Beck  repose  ih^Tm'^^"^.''  '^^''^''^ 
short.     It  was,   however    .Zt   ""I"  «°  ^""-y 
younger  children  shouH   SZ'^^   **•"*  "-e 
house    and  accord.W  thev  ^   '"    *'^«  "«-^* 
to  bed, -not,  however   W^    *r  '*"*  e^^y 
g'ven  his  blessing  to7hl  wwV''''.,P"'^^*  ^ad 
nine  o'clock.  Father  IVfX'f  '^'"''^'-    About 
«te  leave  of  tho  e  S  ^^^h*""''-^"  ««'«««°n- 
all  probability  to  meerno  m/'""'  '"^  '^^^  '» 
the  grave,  and  it  was  oh„l   T  ""  *'""  ^'''e 
hi8  hand  over  the  h^ad  of tTif^'  .^'  ""^  ''^^ed 
breathed  an  inwarrtaver  V?'"''^'^"*''  ""d 
by  the  motion  of  his  Mn?  th«f  k^  Perceptible 
when  he  raised  them  to  h!!o         *"'  "««<*  eyes, 
tears.     When  he  tSnl  f"    "'  ""^'^  *'''»  with 
that  all  present  werTln*",-^"  '^"^^^  ^^  found 
of  his  blessing;   and  as  hf^ '"  expectation 
madethesienoffh^-.-       ■    P^^^ed  along  he 

bcnediction^on  tLe'e  C™;r'"^'°S  '^'>  "^ne 
tians-so  sublime  in  thpT.^'!'-  ^"'^^'I  Chris- 
Sf  their  devotion""^  HetiT"?  .^"".e^tness 

--  w.en  Andy  Burke'sTecondTol^raXy  of' 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


13 


eleven  or  twelve  years  old,  was  clinging  to  his 

coat. 

"  I  want  yoif  to  bless  me  again,  Father 
Maloney,"  and  the  tears  were  chasing  each 
other  over  the  child's  rosy  cheeks.  *'  An'  I 
hope  you'll  pray  for  me,  and  daddy,  and  mam- 
my, and  all  of  us,"  he  added,  "  when  we're  far 
away  from  3"OU." 

"  God  bless  you,  my  boy !  God  bless  you, 
and  mark  you  with  grace !  — you  have  always 
been  a  good,  dutiful  child,  and  may  you  con- 
tinue to  be  a  consolation  to  your  poor  parents 
in  the  strange  land  whither  they  and  j-ou  are 
going!  Be  assured,  Willy,  that  if  my  poor 
prayers  can  obtain  favor  for  you  all  from  Al- 
mighty God,  they  shall  not  be  wanting."  The 
good  man  spoke  in  a  thick,  husky  voice,  and 
he  hastened  away,  evidently  desirous  to  hide 
his  emotion. 

The  rest  of  the  company  declared  their  in- 
tention of  remaining  over-night,  so  as  to  ac- 
company the  Burkes  some  miles  of  the  way  on 
the  following  morning,  and  the  night-hours 
passed  away  in  sad  but  friendly  conversation. 
About  the  middle  of  the  night  the  Rosary  was 
said,  being  read  aloud  by  Master  Dogherty, 
and  responded  to  by  all  present,  young  and 
old.  It  was,  and  still  is,  the  pious  custom  of 
our  people  to  approach  the  sacraments  imme- 
diately before  their  departure  from  Ireland ; 
and  this  consoling  duty  had  been  faithfully 
performed  by  the  family  in  question,  who  had 


ir~'Tf  ' 


14 


WILLT   BURKE  ;     OR, 


holycommunion  nn\?  ?       ^'^  receiver!    the 

less  lovely  it  is  whtn  »  P"™*'""-  — and  not 
and  fortiftunV  thdr  sn,l*  ^"'^  ".  strengthening 
the  foreign  la^Ki'V!.''"'*  "^T"'  t^^Ptation  iS 

scoffers  of  the  world  Av  «fX/''«  half-infidel 
are  then  its  divhTo  lin<..^ '  *'.'"  """"^  ''adiant 
ness-its  humil?v  'r^^^.^n's  -  "s  truthful- 
brought  iLrn'/st  ^Uh  tt  Z'T''  ""«» 
doubting  spirit  of  the  age  -  SironM^''''"^'''''' 
cal  age  m  which  we  livft' lt*t,ri-'„ '^^P"' 
on  that  Mondav  mr.Z;^ '      u   ^^  ^'"'^  ^lark, 

able  homestead^  AndT'^fl"  *"  ''°'»«'^*^ 
utter  loneliness  -  when  th?  ft  -.''^l'""  *" 
for  so  many  long  ^ar?  nifi^™'^'  *''**  ''ad 

lovebeneath  itr^Ck?;"   ,/"  P^^*="  »<1 

as  wanderers  for  a  Snt^'^'-  rtht* ' '°'^'' 
known  connfrx-    «o««  •       '  .       '  ^^  tnem,  un- 

tbe  hoarrd"&;?SfXs*'nT>"' 
and  respect  of  their  humWe  ne^V) 'l  '^'  '^^ 
these  were  blessings -Zat  and  ^^* 

and  so  did    AnH„  n..  ,»™at  and  ..^joiiug  — 

thea.     Like  t"'L^r'l!_!"'^  ."^^  ^'^  re|ard 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA, 


15 


►ungest  child, 
received  the 
•able  Sunday 
I  the  revered 
lutiful  is  the 
ious  piety  of 
iftil  when  at 

'sorrow;'* 

poverty,  and 
i»  —  and  not 
;rengthening 
Jmptation  in 
it  is  treated 
i  half-infidel 
'ore  radiant 
its  truthful- 
ness, when 
i,  arrogant, 
old,  scepti- 
still  dark, 
le  comfort- 
vas  left  to 
'  that  had 
peace  and 
e,  set  forth 
them,  un- 
i  little  but 
d  the  love 
'C^^a.     Yet 

^oOiiiig  — 

ie  regard 
the  shel- 


ter of  the  ark,  they  wont  forth  over  the  world's 
waste,  unknowing  whei  they  should  find  a 
resting-i)lace ;  !!ut  their  souls  were  in  peace 
amid  all  their  sorrow,  for  they  were  filled  with 
an  humble  yet  lively  confidence  in  God.  Some 
of  the  convoy  (as  these  processions  are  called) 
boin2  on  foot,  went  but  a  few  miles  of  the  jour- 
iioyj'and  then  returned  home,  with  many  a  fer- 
\  ent  blessing  on  the  heads  of  the  travellers. 
Others  who  were  variously  mounted,  some  on 
horseback,  and  others  on  the  wheeled  cars  of 
the  country,  accompanied  the  Burkes  to  the 
town  whence  they  were  to  embark  for  Liver- 
pool, and  it  was  already  noon-day  when  they 
all  stopped  before  the  steamboat  oflftce. 

At  length  the  final  moment  came,  and  it  was 
one  of  severe  trial.  The  friendship  of  years 
TV  as  rent  asunder,  as  though  by  death;  and 
they  who  had  giown  up  side  by  side  —  whose 
childhood  and  youth  and  maturity  had  passed 
together — were  now  parted,  as  they  sadly  felt, 
"  to  meet  no  more  on  earth."  But  here  again 
came  in  the  consoling  aid  of  their  common 
faith,  and  with  the  parting  grasp  of  the  hand 
were  spoken  such  touching  assurances  as  these  : 
'<•  Well !  God  be  with  ye  all !  —  an'  sure,  when 
ye  are  all  far  away,  w^e'U  never  let  ye  out 
of  our  minds  nor  our  hearts.  With  God's 
help  we'll  never  forget  to  offer  up  the  Pater  and 
Ave  night  an'  mornin',  for  your  welfare,  an' 

•nrVtnm     -nra^-^a.     aatrin*     +V>0     "Rnaarv   ITl      thft      ChaDel 

TTULCLX       TT -_    if      urirj  Hi        vis-.-      ^»....~.-j 1     ■ 

above,  sure  everybody  'ill  keep  ye  in  mind. 


,;*■•"-  *"' 


16 


WILLY   BURKE  J     OR, 


P^^Zatt.^:^y^^^^  an'  BMd„  a.' 
the  glory  of  heaven  T"        ^  *"  "'*^'  ^"''n  in 

"  for  sure  it's  rerZvtl'thl     ^  "^"^'"S  voice : 
an'  llvin'  or  dKj  ye tlv'r'  ^fi'"' «'«« 
one  of  us  alive  to  offer  m>^!^      '  '^'"''^  'J'^fe's 
>t,  from  our  hearts  out  '^r.Tff''' ^^'"  '"'^e 
•Jren !  and  make  1^1 1  ho     '^  ^'•'"^  y«>  chU- 
an- the  world  to  come      n?P^^  ^'•'^  '^orid, 
sight  to  many  aTe  to^S°"'\"''  *''«  ""ack 
an'  the  old  walls  left  bare  a„.r  ^,^^^  '■"'ned, 
he  sees  that.     SiretS     ''"'«'>'- an' God 
miss  ye   sore,  an' whe„%r"^''''''^^'"^«'" 
'^ouse,  they'U  be  offerTn' 1  fh? '*  P**"""'  <*« 
for  them  that  ns^  to  havp  if  '"'''>'^'"  *°  ^od 

"ferc?V"'-p'-*'^^^^^^^^ 
the  Bu?K"m  aC  vf '^^^  ''^  '-'  o-r,  and 
barked, -the  father  C°^'  ^^  ^'"^'^  «"- 
«ad,  as  their  tearfd  Z^  Zl^T  ^«^«  and 
receding  shores  of  that  kl  °"  *^^  ^'^'t 

to  their  aching  hearts  *  IZ    """^  Painfully  deai- 
nally  losing  sight  of  th!^   ^"""^  People  grad- 

eltyofeverUrgl^tT'ThT'  '»  '''«  "o^" 
the  lighthouse,  the  °tLmJ^®^'''''*''«<'oast, 

dreds  of  strange  fecef  It  w"*'  ."'"^  ">«  hun- 
waters,  had  all  and  each  tl^.'  °"^  °^«'  ^^^ 
their  young  minds  from  Ih   ^^^'^  of  weaning 

and  it  was  only  "tefX  vW*'  ^''  ^''''n^^^l 

boat  hfi<„n  *„  ...  ™"  *?<'  violent  motion  «<•♦(.„' 

-=~  ..  =..Ken  uiem,  that  they  couId'be° 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.* 


17 


prevailed  upon  to  leave  the  deck,  and  go  below. 
Even  the  passage  of  that  narrow  sea,  though 
alread}'  effected  by  steam,  was  by  no  means  so 
rapid  as  it  now  is,  and  the  Burkes  found  it  of 
all  but  endless  duration  ;  for  it  chanced  that  a 
heavy  sea  was  sweeping  through  the  channel, 
and  its  violent  hea^dngs  affected  all,  more  or 
less.  The  sight  of  Liverpool,  (dirty,  smoky 
town  that  it  is,)  was  a  welcome  one  to  them  ; 
and  it  was  with  grateful  hearts,  and  a  sense 
of  relief,  that  they  found  themselves  again  on 
the  dry,  firm  land,  although  it  was  the  land  of 
England. 

Next  day  our  emigrants  embarked  for  New 
York,  on  board  the  good  ship  Dublin;  and  it 
appeared  as  though  they  set  out  under  favor- 
able auspices,  for  the  weather  was  fair  and 
tolerably  mild,  and  the  long  swell  of  the  ocean' 
wave  was  but  slightly  broken  by  the  breeze. 
Wind  and  tide  were  favorable,  and  the  hopes 
of  passengers  and  crew  ran  high,  in  anticipa- 
tion of  a  quick  and  pleasant  voyage.  There 
were,  however,  two  individuals  on  board  who 
looked  on  the  animated  scene,  without  and 
within  the  vessel,  without  catching  even  the 
smallest  particle  of  the  invigorating  spirit 
which  seemed  to  actuate  all  around.  These 
were  Andy  Burke  and  his  wife  —  the  former 
of  whom  seemed  weighed  down  by  some  dark, 
hidden  feeling,  which  wore  him  away  A&y  by 
Cia}' ;  and  the  latter  by  fears,  newly  awakened 
fears,  for  her  husband's  health.    To  all  others, 


^LLY  burke;   or, 

he  seemed  as  well  ««  7.^  k    i 
there  was  a  flush  o^  M       ''  ^^?  ■"=«"'•  f"" 
light  in  his  hoHow  eve  \LZ^\f^'^'  ""^  « 
scrutinizing   g  aL   of   „ff  T'''  "°*  P»«»  th" 
Biddy  felt  her  hp?rt     •  ,*^*'*'°" !    »°<1   Poor 
the^time'osrC^I-  '^.?  ^Tf  "*  f^r 
become  of  us  all  if  a"^      ™  ~     "^hat  would 
For  some  da™  shf  k&  V"'""  '■™™  »«? " 
f eading  lest  injeSsfou  ^:?'!,'«  •^^T"'' 
be  injurious  to  her  hn^band    h,./  }^  ""^^^ 
could  contain  herself  nn^^ '     "'  ""*  '*'"«*''  she 
to  ask,  "Andv^  nlL      onger,  and  ventured 
With  y^,  at  all.'  fc.     ^f^^f^   the,.matter 
same  man  since  w  l.i  t  •       '°°''  ^^^  the 
grievin'  ye  are  for  W^n'  ^'^^P""'  •'    W  it's 
there's  no  useinleU^^.^''T'  ?""■«'  «''<"'»•' 
helped,  an'  onlA  ^*  '"g^^;"*  J^^^^*  can't  be 
be  on  the  shauo/irnZ  n.-    t^' ^^ '^°'^^^'i't 
for  that  reasorwe  must  ™  J'v"'^^''  ^^'' "  «<>. 
an'  not  murmu;,  for  fear  God"  *''t^^*  "^  " 
more  and  more !  '•  '^  °"S''*  "fflct  «s 

a««Aore/»"rerrn!dr„  Tl*  *"  ''°°'^.  Biddv 
.re  the  trutrSTnce^wf^':''"  ^"^'  *«" 
something  over  Z,  Z"l  d^n'f  kn^"'  ^^'''''^ 
IS  — I  think  I'm  as  wpII  .  '"?^  '^'■"t  it 

somehow  or  another  th^^e'e^iL!?!  ^  '"'''  "^"^ 
on  my  heart  — an'  nt«.f*  "^^^^^  weight 

tl«t  I'm  as  much  de,d?'',?*  '^'^''^  ««  so 

the  reason  of,"     But  ,1*k^^-"''''*«^«'s 

thinkin'  that  I'll'  „«,"'  see  th^°Tl.  ^'"».  "'^^^^ 

sure.  Ond  i.„i.,  .:.  .  .."■^  ®ee  the  other  side :  /n- 

.  —  ■  ....H  .uu  i  mat  same  wouldn't  troubie 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA. 


19 


me  much,  only  for  you  an'  the  children,  poor 
things ! " 

''  Tut,  tut,  man ! "  said  his  wife,  affecting  a 
tone  of  remonstrance,   though   she  found   it 
difficult  to  restrain  her  tears,  on  hearing  her 
own  secret  forebodings  echoed  back  from  her 
husband's  heart.     "  Sure,  it's  a  shame  to  hear 
a   sensible  man  talkin'   that  way.    It's   the 
black  grief,  I  tell  you,  that's  makin'  you  so 
down-hearted,  an'  it  doesn't  become  a   God- 
fearm'  man  to  be  so  easy  cast  down.     With 
the  help  of  God,  we'll  both  live  to  see  the 
children  well  settled  in  America,  an'  then  it's 
no  matter  how  soon  we're  taken  home,  for, 
God  knows,  there's  no  great  pleasure  to  be 
expected  in  this  world.     Keep  up  your  heart, 
then,  Andy !  for  the  love  o'  God,  do !  not  tj 
speak  o'  myself  an'  the  poor  creatures  that's 
dependm  on  you  !  "     A  sorrowful  shake  of  the 
head  was  Andy's  reply ;   and,  as  some  of  the 
children  drew  near  at  the  moment,  the  subiect 
was  dropped  for  that  time. 

Alas !  these  gloomy  presentiments  were  all 
too  soon  realized,  for  Andy  visibly  declined, 
and  day  after  day  saw  him  grow  paler  and 
thinner,  and  more  dejected.  At  length  he  was 
forced  to  keep  his  bed,  and  a  hectic  fever  set 
in,  which  very  soon  exhausted  his  remainino- 
strength,  and  left  not  a  shadow  of  hope  fo? 
his^  recovery.  Even  poor  Biddy,  though  she 
.,  "  ^/"f-'^'J  struggled  against  despair  while 
the  slightest  possibility  existed  that  her  hus- 


^bn.'  '' 


V 


20 


^'I-LY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


dreadful  tidingr  Her    ••""''  *°'^'  '^«e 
choking  sobs,  but  her  ^^.r  "'^  ""^  '"•oken  br 
«low  in  catching  he  2al?^  a«'itors  were  not 
knowing,  as  the^  did  tfcP  •  ""l"^  her  words 
was  very,  very  111  ""'Fro^  *''«'':  f^Wed  father' 
nestled  around  his  bed  „•♦?  '  Moment  thev 
ness,  each  vyine  lifh   t^'*''  "••"doubled  fond^ 

»ifstertohii;?„tTtd /nr*^'''  ^^°  ^houM 
Yet  they  had  been  wCed  ^  "I'r*" '''^ '^'«''«« 
W  ^^L""^'  show  of  m"ef  •  L  ,  -f  '"°*«^  not 
y  sight  to  see  the  seffi^  ^''j'^asatouch- 
exercsed  h  consequence  T^?'   ^'"«''  ^ey 
elder  boys,  who  were  res  "r   ',""*"'  ^^en  the 
eleven,  found  it  iZoS  ?'^'  ^'^'^een  and 
tears,  they  would  stZTwavf^"  refrain  fro« 
of  their  dying  father,  and  sittf^*"^  *"  ''"'dside 
S^de  in  some  remote  corned  1?^  ''"'^n  side  by 

Zlirf  *°  *''«r  so^Tw    'tL'^''""'''  «'^« 
would   from   time  tn   ^iZ      7^  young  ones 

pother,  With  stealth;  caulL'^'"^.  »««?  th4 
her  ear,  "j  think  daddv^»l?.'  ""'^  'whisper  in 
you  see  how  red  ht  chLks  ""v^'^f^'-don^ 
tears  was  the  only  aasww  •  fo,  n- 1.  ^  ^"^t  of 
tjiat  death  was  ranidlv  rff^'^'.'l''^' «'ell  knew 
that^the  glow  on  ttt.adatfd'^'  '"''^'  ^iid 

P-nnd.aSc^^n^IvtXt^-i'"- 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  21 

retarded  in  her  progress   by  strong  western 
gales,  so  that,  though  she  had  no  very  great 
storm   to  encounter,  yet  the  voyage   was  a 
rough  and  tedious  one.    For  seven  long  weeks 
was  she  kept  buffeting  about  on  the  wide  ocean, 
without  making  any  considerable  progress,  and 
eight  weeks  had  passed  since  "the  last  glimpse 
of  Erm  "  had  disappeared  from  the  eyes  of  the 
emigrants,  when  one  morning,  just  as  the  shades 
of  night  were  vanishing  from  sky  and  sea, 
iiiddy  Burke  awoke  her  younger  children  from 
their  sleep,  and  made  a  sign  for  them  to  rise— 
she  could  not  speak.     Hastily  donning  their 
little  garments,  the  wondering  children  followed 
their  mother  — it  was  but  a  few  paces  — to 
their  father's  bed,  where  they  found  their  two 
brother's  kneeling,  with  their  faces  hid  between 
their  hands.     A  scream  burst  forth  from  the 
little  ones  as  they  looked  at  the  bed,  for  their 
lather  lay  still,  as  though  he  were  dead,  and 
the  gnastly  paleness  of  his  face  was  fearful  to 
see.     He  was  not  dead,  however,  though  his 
hour  was  just  then  come,  and  the  voice  of  his 
children  woke  him  from  his  lethargic  slumber 
"  Kneel  down,  all  of  ye  !"  he  said,  in  a  feeble 
voice,  "till  I  give  ye  my  blessin'  — God  help 
ye,  poor  children,  I  haven't  much  else  to^leave 
ye  I       When  the  whole  sorrowful  group  knelt 
before  him,  the  mother  as  well  as  the  children 
the  dying  man  raised  his   clasped  hands  to 
heaven,  and  breathed  an  inward  prayer  that 
the  God  of  the  widow  and  the  orphan  might 


r 


22 


^LLY  BURKE  J    OR, 


hand,  he  made  the  S  of  tt  ^^  """  '^'^  ''S^t 
heads,  murmuring  "^Thp  ,.i      "T"  "'"''  their 

Trinity -Pather,%o J   an'  S  o'  the  Holy 
upon  ye  all  anH  ™„    '*,,       "°'y  Ghost  — be 

God  bring  „;  an  toZLi'"  «?"<'  ""<*  "ercifat 

children,  for  the  last  Hmi  *"  y*"""  father, 

able  to  say  much  bu've-rj"?^'  ^'"^  »" 
ye- 1  trust  in  God  ye  iS  ""i?"  J^'^"'  ^  ^11 
Jn'  an'  sobbin'  now  for  a  ,>fi  uS  ^""^  "^y- 
have  time  enouoTforth.i^t '"'"«•  *"'"'  yeUl 
There  was,  in  a  moment  «  ''^"^  ^'"^  ^""e-" 
and  the  dj'ing  cCs«an  '  Lf  °'^"°<'  ««e°ce, 

frequently  obliged  tostonfiPf "  "««°-  though 
ness.  s  u  lo  stop  irom  excessive  weak- 

children,  wh^J'yl^SXlL  ?   **™°Sre  country, 
through  as  best  ye  can      a  ^.^"'^  J'*""-  way 
will  that  ye'U  have  no  iatht  .* W  '*'«  ^'>^^ 
watch  over  ye,  still  heleavl  ve  ?  *^-^'"'°^t° 
?  wise  au'  lovin'  mothpr  I-,-'   ' '"  ^"  ™ercy, 
18,  that  next  to  God  -h       "^  ''^'"'  «''^*ce 
honor  A«n    Never  d„  amrh'  ^'' "•  '"^^  «»<! 
consent,  or  without  consi&  ''"'•°"*  her 
ye'U  be  sure  to  do  well      4   .     ^*'"'  ^"'^  thpp. 
the  same  char™  thif       ^"  """^  I'"  give  re 
">«  With  his  dJin'X'"' Brf  •f.'^T  f^-«  to 
1"  i°- ->4  hii'SlV  ch  i^''^?;'J°  God, 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA 


23 


to  come !  Now,  God's  blessin'  an'  mine  be 
about  ye  all.  Bidd}^,  asthore  ! "  he  said,  after  a 
pause,  but  he  spoke  so  low  that  she  was  obliged 
to  bend  down  to  catch  his  words,  "  it  would 
give  me  great  consolation  if  I  could  only  re- 
ceive the  rites  o*  the  church ;  but  God  sees 
all  things,  an'  he  sees  how  it  grieves  me  that  I 
can't  have  that  happiness.  But  when  you  get 
to  New  York,  Biddy,  dear,  ye'll  not  forget  to 
have  some  Masses  offered  up  for  me,  that  God 
may  have  mercy  on  my  poor  soul !  —  don't  cry, 
agra  macJire  !  I  see  you  can't  speak,  —  but  I 
know  you'll  do  as  I  say ;  there  now,  put  that 
little  crucifix  in  m}^  hand, — that'll  do,  ahagur. 
Christ  Jesus  have  merc3^  on  me,  —  Mother  of 
Jesus  praj'^  for  me, —  sweet  Lord,  take  me 
home  to  my  eternal  rest."  There  was  a  dead 
silence  for  some  minutes, —  not  even  the  3-oung- 
est  child  was  heard  to  utter  a  sound.  Many 
of  the  passengers  knelt  around,  but  all  were 
silent.  Biddy  bent  down  over  the  d^ing  man, 
and  held  in  her  breath  to  listen,  but  all  was 
still ;  suddenly  one  deep,  convulsive  sigh  is- 
sued from  the  half-closed  lips, —  a  shiver  ran 
through  the  whole  body,  so  that  even  the  bed- 
clothes were  seen  to  quiver,  and  then  all  was 
over.  "  May  the  Lord  have  merc3^  on  your 
soul,  for  now  it's  gone  before  the  judgment- 
seat  ! "  cried  the  poor  bereaved  wife,  as  her 
tears,  long  suppressed,  now  burst  forth,  and 
fell  like  rain  on  the  pale,  shrunken  face  of  the 
^ead.     Then,  as  her  children  echoed  her  cry, 


24 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


turb  hto  no^o  -™V  m''  .r  ^''"  "°^  *- 

»U  do  ns  no  eood      rf^i,  '^'■^'"■««'-«<?or/  but 

«ouI  that's  gonr^^-iji'^"""*  ^/^^  ^ack  the 

"l^e  said,  suddenly  faHinc  !;  \"'  ^.''«"'  ^t  all  ?  " 

«?>  I  about,  that^I'ffl^of  »r«'"'.''?^««  ;  "  '^hat 

h'm   before   the  Judo^  fi/-  T,"    '^'  '>!'».  an' 

all!  an'Jetusoffernpour"    ^  '  ?°°''  P^ople 

Though  her  voice  was  f,?r^"<""^  ^"'^  Wm  •'  " 
she  nevertheless  ZZJ^^'^'^S  at  every  ^ord 
up  her  prayers  witHrvor  5^!;°?'  «"''  "ffered 
children,  and  all  the  svmLfi  •^■''^''<'"°'' !  her 
JO-ned  in  the  per^a^eZf  t  L^"^  spectators, 
Dunngthe  day  and  nlht  ?h  V""^**  '^"^S' 
■Burke   was   waked  Tf    ^      "^''*  Poor  Andv 
alleviated  the  ^o^o'w  of  tC^'^'F  ^'"Idlavi 
made  desolate,  it  surehf  w„    ^  '"'°"'  ^s  death 
those  who  had  nfvl.^     "^  °°'  wanting  •  for 
«nthey„eron"b::^«th:  °»e  f  *''«  ^^^S 
to  them  by  so  great  a  ,,,-!^''  ''^'^  ^'^^^ 
tha    the  pfaee  aS  eircums  «""'^''  ""''  '^M  al° 
testify  their  deep   and    ^      f^^  Permitted  to 
But   though   the^pZ^.wr'^'*    empathy? 
gratefhl  for  so  mwb   Jf?''  ^««   sincerely 
-  yp  it  could  not  draw  Tr  f^'T  ^'"<J»4 
of  woe.     Hour  after  L.       i-     "  ^"^  'etharffv 
ieaf  rocking  to  a^,^°C  tfth  1,  ^'^^  *<>«  b^^- 
mot.on    so  expressive  o7hr  ^   *'''"  Peculiar 

""•""  """-'-'»-  «'-Pcd  han'ds  «sti^^': 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


25 


her  knees,  and  her  tearless  e3'es  fixed  on  the 
rigid  features  of  the  dead.  All  the  elder 
children  seemed  nearlj-  as  much  afflicted  as 
their  mother;  but  however  touching  was  the 
silent  sorrow  of  the  group,  it  was  not  half  so 
much  so  as  the  all  but  unconsciousness  of  the 
two  3'oungest,  who,  though  somewhat  subdued 
b}'  the  sight  of  so  much  grief,  yet  ran  about 
as  usual,  and  ate  whatever  was  offered  them 
with  just  as  good  a  relish.  At  times  they 
would  peep  in  between  the  others,  where  they 
sat  around  the  bed,  and  for  the  moment  they 
would  seem  sensible  that  their  father  was 
indeed  dead ;  but  once  out  of  sight  of  that 
mournful  spectacle,  the  impression  was  speed- 
ily eflfaced. 

That  long,  melancholy  night  was  at  length 
past,  and  the  hour  arrived  when  the  mortal 
remains  of  poor  Andy  Burke  were  to  be  com- 
mitted to  the  deep.  Weak  and  worn  as  Biddy 
was,  she  could  not  be  persuaded  from  helping 
to  prepare  the  corpse  for  burial.  Herself  put 
on  the  shroud  prepared  for  him  ;  but  when  the 
sailors  came  to  sew  up  the  corpse  in  its  cam  ^ 
coffin,  she  resigned  her  place  with  shrinking 
horror,  for  the  operation  appeared  an  unnatural 
one  to  her.  She  had  previously  called  her 
children  to  take  their  final  leave  of  the  dead, 
herself  giving  the  example  by  imprinting  a 
long,  last  kiss  on  the  blue,  ice-cold  lips.  This 
sorrowful  ceremony  over,  the  De  ProfundiSy 
and  the  usual  prayers,  were  read  aloud  by 


26 


^II-LY  BURKE  ;     OR, 


a  young  ecclesiastic  wHa  », 

Joard,  (on  his  wav  tn  h^      J'Wened  to  be  on 

^ody   was   carried    Soft    th    Z^'^'^'P'"'    tbe 
deceased  following  cfosei;.  „  !.  ^^'""^-  «f   tlie 
greater  number  omepatiC^  "««;  them  the 
ful  procession  having  reaoh^f  i'^     ^'"^  "own- 
;vere  ">rownaround1he"&'''  ''"™>  '"P^b 
to  lower  it  from  the  shin't    •^^'^  ''<""P«e  in  order 
parting  forward    S  C^% '""  ">«  ^Wc  v' 
''e«<Je  it,  and  implored  fh^  ""  ^<»-  J^nfCiJ 
moment.    The  l^^Zu^""  *<>  wait  yet  a 

°y«r  her  heaS!  sofhaf  her'f '"^'^  ^^«  t'^^^n 
<listmethseen  •  l.nt^        ,    ^^"^  could  not  ho 

that  «heU^;,^",*; K  ^"^  y'«''"«  t^  «how 
her  ^ves  were  s»oUe„  wl^^w  "'?''"'  ^"^  '^aT 
no'^  <iry  and  tearless      'Tot,  a'"?^"^'  *hough 
she  murmured  in  a  Ir.»       '•.'^"'^^  '  Andyi" 
little  we  thouo^hi  wL„    '  '^^'"''g  ^ne,   "  U's 
that  this  'id  be  the  way^rh'^^'f  '«'»-''''  home 
heart  would  not  be  hair«A  "' '    A°'  «">e  my 
ye  were  a-buryin' 1„  tl  °  ,r'i  «<"'»*^«/  if 
home,  where  /our  forefaLi  ,P''"'-«hyard  at 
w,rra,  wirral   to  see  v™.      fu^'^'-hut  och ' 
the  deep  ocean,  instead  o"  T  '^°'''°'  <>»t  in?o 
consecrated  ground       .I ''?i°*»''ered  "P  in 
natural !     But  then '-r"-*'*''''  'ts  unnatural    .,n 
ollecting  herseft  mL'^'^'^'  ^'^d'^^y  rZ 
foling  whisper,  "but  A^  ""T  ^'th  its  eon. 
hody,  after  in?  an' stl  ^'''7'^''"  "  the  poor 

at  the  last  day  as  hri  I?'"'  ''"n  raise  ye  „„ 
.Ve  had  h»o„  :■^:.'^^hr^ght  and  beantifi./..  "? 

'"""  ""^^"^  '"  the  quiet  eartt  f  fJl 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA. 


27 


well,  then,  till  we  meet  again !  an'  I  hope,  in 
the  mercy  o'  God,  that  it  'ill  be  before  his 
tlirone,  to  live  in  his  blessed  kingdom  forever 
an'  ever.  Amen !  "  This  last  word  of  her 
simple  prayer  was  echoed  from  hundreds  of 
hearts :  the  children  gathered  close  around 
their  mother,  and  the  corpse  was  raised  aloft ; 
a  wild  cry  broke  from  the  bereaved  ones  as 
it  was  lowered  into  the  deep,  —  poor  Biddy 
covering  her  eyes  to  shut  out  the  horrid  sight, 
—  one  heavy  splash  was  heard,  the  body  of 
poor  Andy  Burke  was  far  down  amid  the 
waters,  and  the  vessel  was  moving  rapidly  on 
her  course.  The  widow  was  almost  carried 
down  the  gangway  steps,  (b}'-  some  whose  tear- 
ful e^'es  attested  their  sincere  sj-mpathj-,)  for 
she  was  literally  more  dead  than  alive,  being 
entirely  exhausted  by  long  watching  and 
heart-wearing  affliction.  Her  children  followed 
close  behind,  helping  each  other  along  as  best 
they  could. 


29 


WtLr  BUBKE  ;    OB, 


I!  'III! 


CHAPTER   II. 

POVERTT  AND  TEMPTATION. 

New  York ;  months  o/wal'lT  ^''  '""•J""  i" 
had  been,  for  the  desolatpV-f  «^  ^o^ow  they 
hard  to  support  her  S  "^"'T  "^"d  found  it 
means,  ancrunfr£lea  f '".. ''"''  ^"^  ™«U 
nought  in   ;ain  for  sit   f'  r^'  '^^  had 
M'ght  enable  her  to  keen  hp^7-«^'"«'°'    that 
■•eserve.     Sickness  and  death  *7*"g /"""s  in 
husy  amongst  her  little  «!',  *°°'  ''"d  been 
youngest  children    ha "  one^^  ^"^  ^'''  t'^" 
pined  away  and  dip/!^   ^  *^*"'  the  other 
"the  qui^t  chu^i^f '^«':«^»b'sleeprng 
fevere  trial  for  the  mof h'  •   i  '^"''  '^"''th  was  a 
'«  to  lose  a  beloved  cM/ntr*'  ^'^  '*  "^^^ 
stances,)  but  when  reas'n   o  /'"  ","•>'  '"'•'""n- 
exerted  their  mild  iSee  n     /"''^'^n  had 
acknowledged  with  a  ™,,°?  ''"''  ^o«l'  she 
had  given  her  a  new  p.^of  !?„•"}"  "^"t  G^d 
takmg  to  himself  her  fa  hof,'"'  ^V'"'  '»  thus 
jet  hey  had  been  subjected  ^ff  '«''*«»  e™ 
ulation,  or  their  pure  Cf      ""^  ^'^  °f  trib- 
the  v,-,.„„  _^i,      *'"re  Hearts  contnm!„»4..-,  , 

-    •.^-^"ux.ne  world.    Just  about' th^^^^^  °^ 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA. 


29 


the  first  year  of  widowhood  she  obtained  the 
washing  of  a  few  fanralies  of  respectable 
standing,  and,  through  their  influence,  others 
were  induced  to  give  lier  employment.  Her 
two  eldest  children,  being  bo3's,  could  do 
nothing,  it  is  tnie,  to  assist  their  mother  in 
the  house  ;  but  the  two  girls,  although  only  ten 
and  eight  respectively,  were  so  docile,  and  so 
industrious,  that  they  did  much  to  lighten  her 
labor.  Neat  and  tidy  they  were,  too ;  and  it 
did  their  mother's  heart  good  to  see  how  cheer- 
fully and  willingly  they  went  about  their  work. 
After  a  little  time,  the  eldest  boy,  Peter, 
obtained  a  situation  as  errand-boy  in  a  com- 
mercial establishment ;  and  his  earnings, 
trifling  though  they  might  be,  were  a  sensible 
assistance  to  his  mother,  to  whom  they  were 
duly  and  regularly  given  up.  Hitherto  our 
old  acquaintance,  Will}^  had  been  of  a  remark- 
able cheerful,  livel}-  disposition,  but  about  this- 
time  his  mother  remarked  that  he  became  silent 
and  pensive,  as  though  something  weighed 
heavily  on  his  young  mind.  At  first  she 
thought  that  this  might  proceed  from  the  lone- 
liness attending  his  brother's  absence,  as  they 
were  now  for  the  first  time  separated.  But 
when  she  came  to  talk  to  him  on  the  subject, 
he  warmly  replied,  "  No,  no,  mother,  dear  !  it 
isn't  that ;  sure,  I'm  glad  an'  proud  that  Peter 
has  got  somethin'  to  do,  because  it's  a  help  to 


.  • '  ■  ^  • 


an/1     i'f     rrixTf^a      Viim 


somethin'  for  you  an'  us  all ;  but  when  I  see 


30 


'W^ILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


hands,  an'  when  T  w  "®  ^*^®^  into  your 

callin-'hto  a  Joocf  '0"%^  if  ^"j?'  '^™'  ''n' 
?orry  that  I  have  nothinr^^  •  ""''^^  '"J'^elf 
in  place  of  bein'  a  hen^iTj""  ^1?"'  '"''  that 
that  I'm  a  burden  to  you  f"      "^  ^'"^^'"'^  "'« 

nock^ara^l^stirT  T"/  *«  ^f^ 
than  usual  tenderness  -^An^f''^  •..'"'"'  '"°'-« 
you,  Willy,  darlin',  to'talt  thn^  '''•'"'*  '*« 
has  always  marked  you  with  '"'^''  '^"''  ^"^l 
mustn't  let  such  thought,  Tnf  ^""''''  ""■*  rou 
or  bad,  because  S  too  !^'°'"''"''"^'^°o'J 
jHUch  for  any  one  •  an' fn  „i    ^°T^  i'"*  to  do 

«'  .you  to  school  I  am      Tf  ,    "^w*""  °f  »«nd- 

two's  more  learnin',  then  vouM  ^''iV''''  «"• 
"o  work  your  way  th.™,tf.  fif  ^®  ''«tter  able 
road  well  e„ou?lfn"f^  the  T''''^-     You  can 

to  God  for  it !  but  vou  ,1  *'  ^"'  ^^'"'^^  '"' 
3-o-r  name  ;  an' if  Cuwlffn  T!^''^^y  '^"t" 
all,  I'd  like  to  send  ™,?  ti  u"^'' ,"  *"y  ^V  at 
tell  me  there's  school,  l!    ''\°°'-     ^nre  they 

ib-f  :^SKar&  »'"*  '•-'»-'•«''  heav- 
tl.0  hearth,  he'went  quietlv  ^^  ""T'"  '°^  «" 
't  anew,  for  one  of  11.?^-'^°''''  *°  ''""'le 
hung  from  the  crook     Mr,  i^""  I  ^"fhing.pots 

a  tear  with  the  co«er  of  ht     '''^  "''P«'  ""'V 
that  her  f„ :^.'^  °^  her  apron,  for  she  «„£ 

-   „.,„..„  „oy  was  unhappy,  and  beT 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA. 


31 


maternal  heart  could  not  but  sympathize  with 
his  sadness,  proceeding,  as  it  did,  from  the 
purest  and  best  source.  She  turned  away  in 
silence  to  pursue  her  work,  and  for  that  time 
the  matter  went  no  farther. 

Worn  and  pale  she  was,  poor  woman  !  and 
at  times  far  from  strong  ;  but  still  she  toiled  on 
cheerfully,  and  none  might  read  on  her  placid 
face  one  thought  of  discontent,  —  one  corroding 
regret  for  days  of  happiness  gone  forever, 
days  when  comfort  and  plentj^  were  in  and 
around  her  dwelling,  and  when  she  had  the 
means  of  dispensing  good  things  to  others  who 
were  not  so  highly  blessed.  P>ery  morning, 
her  first  care  was  to  hear  Mass  in  the  neigh- 
boring cathedral,  after  which  she  commenced 
her  daily  toil  with  cheerful  alacrity,  for  she 
had  offered  it  to  God,  and  did  all  for  His  sake. 
As  she  always  went  to  the  earliest  Mass,  so, 
in  winter,  it  was  before  the  dawn,  and  she  gen- 
erally took  Willy  with  her,  naturally  disliking 
to  traverse  the  streets  alone  at  an  unseasonable 
or  unseemly  hour.  Thus  the  boy  acquired  a 
habit  which  he  found  one  of  incalculable  profit 
and  consolation  amid  the  trials  of  a  strangely 
chequered  life,  when  that  pious  mother  who  had 
thus  early  led  him  to  the  foot  of  the  altar  had 
been  long  mouldering  in  the  grave. 

It  chanced  one  day  that  Willy  accompanied 
his  mother  when  she  went  to  the  house  of  one 
her  empio}  ers  ;   and  the  lady  being  much 


pleased   with  the   boy's   appearance,  and  his 


82 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


you  to  be  a  good,  ffitrl!'^'  '■°''  ^  •'^'teve 
fore  I  shall  tV  thirbovTn/'''''"' ^"'' t'^^'-e- 
He  shall  be  sent  to  o„e^f"?hfK'"r  "'^^  ''a^^' 
the  city,  so  that  he  may  if  ,!.^''.  '''''°°'-''  *» 
up  for  lost  time  ;  and  when  h.  '•""'"'/•''  »«te 
older,  he  shall  be  talc"  n  ZZLtt  'i  *  '^'^  J'^^rs 
-ng-house,    as   juni:"  "c^ ^ ''"l«-<i> ^o'-nt- 


.   = -.,    „»   junior   clert    "7°^"''  ^  <=°"nt- 

have  a  good  silary       m^t  ?"'"*    "^^   ^'" 
Burke?"  -^        *^"™  say  you,  Mrs. 

"  What  can  I  tnv  ^„> 
tirely  obliged  to  you'for  mS^-  "^"^  *^'  !'■»  en- 
an-  from  my  heart  out  r^?':"?  «"«h  a"  offer, 
wouldn't  become  his  mofh!?''  ^■°"-     0»ly  it 
in  his  praise,  W  be   °ttT.'.°  'P""'^  *«  "-"eh 
"-a'am,  that  I  hope  ye-rflnd  h?''  '°  *«"  >-°«' 
ap'  a  thankful  one.     W Ih  P  i^  ^  ^'^  hoy 
h.s  little  things  readyT^'^e^^l^?  ^'^^  ^'"  S^* 
I  can.    But  won't  he  corned?'""  "'  '°°"  «« 
ma'am,    for    a  Hftio  *•  ^     home  at  niffht 

long  I'd  be  with  he  cr-."'  ^''^^'  '''«  "o* 
them  about  me  whUc  I'mtit  ?"' '  '*^ '°  ''''^■« 
ifyo?rht^^^-J-|^«jheeangohome, 

you  can  send  him  ?t  wM  b?'  auVh'^  T""*' 
Good  morning ;  von  oZL  'i  ^'^^  hetter. 
hurried  this  mornin"  -?    ^  "°'''  '^"'"  !'">  rather 

The  poor  woman  mads  » i^.^ 

"-■ "  wia  cesy ,  and  re- 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


33 


tired  with  her  son.  All  the  way  home  they 
could  talk  or  think  of  nothing  but  the  blessed 
news  they  had  heard,  and  tears  of  joy  streamed 
from  the  eyes  of  the  fond  mother  as  she  painted 
ill  glowing  language  the  advantages  thus 
opened  to  her  darling  son. 

In  a  few  daj's  after,  Willy  Burke  was  duly 
sent  to  school,  dressed,  moreover,  in  an  entire 
new  suit,  and  a  proud  woman  his  mother  was 
when  she  surve3'ed  him  in  his  handsome  new 
clothes,  before  he  set  out  on  Monday  morning. 
When  he  came  home  at  night,  she  felt  still 
prouder  and  happier,  for  he  had  several  respect- 
able looking  volumes,  neatly  strapped  up,  and  in 
each  of  these  he  was  to  learn  an  allotted  lesson. 
When  her  washing  was  done,  she  hastened  to 
got  her  sewing,  and  sat  down  beside  Willy 
where  he  was  studj'ing  his  lessons,  and  she  was 
beyond  measure  gratified  to  hear  the  fine  de- 
scriptions of  far-off  lands  and  seas  ;  and  even 
the  grammar,  though  it  was  all  Greek  to  her, 
was  listened  to  with  a  gratified  ear,  for  wasn't 
it  all  "  fine  larnin'  "  for  her  boy  ?    The  lessons 
were  at  last  learned,  and  supper  being  over, 
and  the  Rosary  said,  Willy  and  his  little  sisters 
went  to  bed.     But  it  was  long  before  their 
mother  sought  that  repose  which  her  day  of 
toil  rendered  so  necessary ;  for,  over  and  above 
the  full  half-hour  which  she  nightly  devoted  to 
her  prayers,  she  sat  for  some  time  on  the  night 
in  question  musing  over  the  past  and  present, 
8 


n 


34 


fl'tr 


Ji     i;;,lt.i 


WILLY  BURKE  ;    OR, 


cSSi"  "''"^  '^  ""S-^'  *Wht  or  he: 

"nd  did  all  the  little  job"  that"!!'  ^^"'  '''^""t 

quired,   did  her  errwt   f       i     ™°"'«''  '<=' 

"nd  saw  that  he  left  n.fv'    *"  "«*   ^^V, 

eagerly  applied  himsdf  to  m"^k  T'°"*''  *"«» 

soon  absorbed  in  the  deli  °Wfi,?°°,''"'  """^  "■•■•s 

over  his  lessons.    Buton?»      •*^'''''°''<=<'"n''ng 

end  of  the  week,  he  sudd^nl?°."'^*'"^^«'««'e 

he  middle  of  a  ptase  and  t^^P^''  '''°'-*  « 

boy ap,r'"''^"'**''^«<'<'^?'' said    the 
;;  What  is  it,  dear?" 

on  ^"fjxr:';::z''j^t-?'''  ^^  --' 

lesson  of  geoffraohv  w1f5^  '"^  "ext  day's 
custom  otm^X^'^'^lT'  ^"T^««g  to  the 
Protestant  school"  ^t^?y^'^  ^''°  «"'te  for 
was  strangely  e^u'^ffff."  "^  Catholics 
blackenedfas^incMeftateh' '?'  ''''"''«^'  «"d 

Catholic  „atio„8/Tw1s^*t,''Tl!P"°"  «f 
was  now  learnino-  and  th»  „'""''  *"t  Willy 

was  to  the  effechhat  t™?  ^T""^"  '"  I'-e^tioIi 

and  fertile  eounn,  and  fer"fT  "  ^''"''^''^^ 
gent  race,  but  tha't  the/wen^^^"*'  '"'«"'" 
of  gross  ignorance  bv  thpp!,  •  ?'  '"  ^  «tate 
,were  sunk^in  the  grossest  s,«r'f-^'''""«^''  «»d 
enUheywere,too!™„i:*vS?  '  f.'!'r«'lo- 

--  aa  this,  together  "witi;--'th;ir;i::^Si 


THE    IRISH    OIIPIIAN   IN    AMERICA. 


35 


povei-t}',  was  unhesitatingly  ascribed  to  "  their 
obstinate  attachment  to  the  debasing  doctrines 
of  Popery  !  "  "  Now  isn't  that  curious,  mother  ? 
an'  then  they  say  here  in  another  place,  that 
TA'herever  the  priests  of  the  Church  of  Rome 
have  power  over  the  people,  it's  just  the 
same !  " 

The  wan  face  of  the  widow  was  flushed  with 
a  crimson  glow  as  she  listened  ;  and  when  Willj^ 
had  ended,  she  said  in  a  voice  that  strua^orled 
to  be  calm,  "An'  do  j'ou  know  Willy,  dear ! 
who  them  priests  are  that  they're  blackenin* 
that  way?  —  sure  aren't  they  our  own  priests, 
darlin',  the  fathers  o'  the  poor  an'  the  ministers 
of  God's  holy  church  ?  —  our  own  Father  Ma- 
loney,  that  couldn't  put  bit  or  sup  in  his  own 
mouth  an'  know  that  anybody  wanted  it,  an' 
sure  there's  hundreds  o'  them  like  him  ;  oh, 
God's  blessin*  be  about  them  all !  for  sure,  bad 
as  the  poor  creatures  in  Ireland  are,  wouldn't 
they  be  a  thousand  times  worse  only  for  the 
priests,  that's  alwaj's  ready  with  the  good  ad- 
vice, an'  the  soft  word,  an'  the  help,  too,  when  • 
it's  needed  ? "  And  here  the  poor  woman's 
grateful  remembrance  of  "  the  priests  at  home," 
together  with  her  indignation  at  hearing  them 
so  basel}'  calumniated,  and  not  only  them,  but 
the  divine  religion  whose  ministers  they  are, 
all  affected  her  so  forcibly  that  she  burst  into 

or,  and 
asked : 
kind  of  a  school  is 


foo 


hastily 


Willy 


86 


WILLY  BURKE  ;     OR, 


ft       i   fl  ;  'fl 


leadin'  poor  CaZ^t^^^^^^P-^^ose  for 
they  used  to  miT'o  fi,  "'^"^•"  ^stia_y  —  where 
Bible,  M-  M„"bookf nT  f '■"'  "'''  Protestant 

that  the;  ci  1  PoS  Mth?tl'""i'  ••^""'°"' 
here  too,  an'  thit   th.-c  •  ^  ^  ""'-^  '"'''■«  them 

-.anna!  ^L^tdXutn'^p'?"''  °   »''-'    E"- 

thinS"nothi^:"eirforVr*',^°**^-     ^ 
tament  every  dav  w  ,'  '"'''''' '"  *'»«  Tes- 

of  bookrSL  Sve  "  ^nV'^  yourself  the  kind 

down  my  head  and  «nL  f"  ,*u^"  ''«   ^'''oked 
with  nie  when  he^l  1   "'  ^-"^^  some  talk 
The  bo,s  lid  he  wLT^  ?!"'"  "^^'  ^•'=«!- 
asked  11.'^' does  the  nrrr''"'-"   ""' '^''^"  ^ 
sure  they  aU  turstuf utw"  T?  "'  '"'' 
make  game  o'  me    an-  «??       '.  ".  '^"S'"'  to 
'Catch  a  priest  inhere -tW's°V''^"i  «''"'' 
boys  alone  would  hunt  hm  rlh  'oj-^'  '^' 
when  I  seen  they  were  all  ml?-  .       '      ^^ 

about  it,  I  said  no'^htag  bu    went'oL  «7H  '"" 
writing."  °  ^^^  ^^  with  my 

"  Well,  please  God,  Willv  vonMi  « 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


37 


they  thought  we  were  so  ignorant  that  we 
wouldn't  know  nor  care  anything  about  refig- 
ion,  but  tliey'll  find  their  mistake,  or  my  name's 
not  Biddy  Burke.  Oh  then,  aren't  they  the  sly 
villains,  out  an'  out  —  here  they'd  be  makin' 
us  believe  that  they  were  givin'  you  a  good  edu- 
cation, an'  them  all  the  time  doin'  their  best 
to  rob  you  of  what's  more  precious  than  silver 
or  gold,  or  all  the  learnin'  in  the  world  —  the 
blessed  an'  holy  faith  that  you  got  from  your 
father,  an'  him  from  his  ;  —  may  they  all  rest 
in  heaven,  I  pray  God,  this  night !  " 

To  this  Willy  made  no  opposition  ;  for  the 
boy  had,  as  I  have  elsewhere  observed,  an  un- 
derstanding above  his  age,  and  young  as  he  was, 
he  was  fully  aware  that  the  gift  of  faith  is  indeed 
a  priceless  blessing ;  so,  seeing  that  his  mother 
believed  his  in  danger  from  the  one-sided  teach- 
ings of  the  school,  he  cheerfully  resigned  him- 
self to  her  will,  and  though  he  sighed  to  have 
the  golden  vista  of  knowledge  closed,  ere  yet 
he  had  done  more  than  glanced  through  "the 
portals,  yet  the  sacrifice  was  made  without  a 
murmur.     His  mother  understood  his  feelings  : 


and 
kissed 


drawing 


him  towards  her,  she  fondly 
his  cheek.  "  Sure,  I  know  it  grieves 
3'on,  darlin',  to  be  taken  away  from  school,  just 
when  you  were  beginnin'  to  do  some  good  ;  but 
God  is  merciful,  Willy,  an'  depend  upon  it, 
when  he  knows  an'  sees  that  you  don't  murmur 
against  his  holy  will,  he'llopen  some  other 
way  for  you.     Maybe  Mrs.   Watkins  didn't 


38 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


m: 


such  work  goi"'  on  »  te  ''•^r'  *«™'"  be  no 
to  both  ;  and  when  in  tlo  "'*?'  """'  ^''"^''"n? 
set  out  ;ith  he  b^nd)^  of  ?'■"',""'  *^^«- 1^"*^ 
without  a  hope  tliat  «,hi  5  m*^''"'  ^''^  «^»s  not 
for  Wi„3.  on'her  refSr  "°"'"  '''^"  S'""^  °«^s 

.velvet^overed  couch    n  L     ,   '"^''''"^^  on  a 
nished  drawi„g.ro"m  with  h   '"J""ousIy  fur- 
tired  m  a  travlllTn^C  \fh!-'  ^''r"  »'" 
set  out  on  a  partv  Zr^C         ^^"^  "^out  to 
seat  of  one  of  iS  tL^lZV  *"*'  """"f^" 
window  stood    er  hish 'nV.  '\*  "  neighboring 
the  road,  and  ^^arenUv  i„!^f?  "''"'«'<'''  fo? 
out  for  the  anpearanPP  nf  J     '""°    a^iously 
horses.  PP^aranee  of  the  servant  with  the 

the^eT'^i  J«*«'  -hat  \-«  ^ou  got 

thrb^Ss'-i--^^^^^ 

wljen  he  wis  gZ^to  Xl'""  *°  ^'^«  ^'"^ 

s-.vp\:Sritt:it;;,t?  *''--•'-- 

'-ri-?' r  ;Ltuie\°  a^ef-  -3- 


THE  IRISH   ORPHAN  IN   /  ...JJRICA. 


39 


saj^  good  woman,  that  you  do  not  choose  to 
send  him?" 

"  I  can't  send  him  there,  ma'am,  an*  Til  tell 
you  the  reason,  if  you'll  please  to  listen  for  one 
minute." 

"  Well,  I  declare  "  said  the  lady,  "  this  im- 
pudence is  beyond  ever\^thing !  It  is  true,  I 
had  often  heard  that  you  Irish  are  too  lazy  and 
indolent  to  apply  yourselves  to  learn  anything, 
and  that  the  trouble  of  keeping  your  children 
in  proper  order  for  going  to  school  was  more 
than  enough  for  you,  —  so  I  find  it  just  the 
same  with  you  all." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  ma'am,"  said  the  poor 
woman,  trying  to  keep  in  her  tears,  -'  it  wasn't 
the  trouble  at  all ;  for,  God  knows,  I'd  be  glad 
to  sit  up  all  night,  after  my  day's  work,  if  I 
had  no  other  way  to  keep  his*^  little  things  clean 
an'  neat  on  him  for  goin'  to  school,  an'  indeed 
ic  was  the  joy  o'  the  world  to  me  an*  him,  poor 
fellow !  for  him  to  get  so  good  a  chance,  —  but 
sure,  ma'am,  it  isn't  a  school  for  Catholics  at 
all ;  an'  I  just  came  here  this  mornin'  to  let 
you  know  the  kind  of  a  place  it  is,  an'  the  sort 
of  books  thev  had  my  little  boy  learnin'." 

"  The  books  I  bought  for  him  myself,  good 
woman,  and  the  school  is  an  excellent  one, 
wherein  boys  receive  a  good  religious  educa- 
tion." 

"  Well,  ma'am,  but  it's  not  our  religion  they 
teach ;  an'  though  the  school  may  be  a  very 
good  one  for   Protestants,    no  Catholic  boy 


40 


WILLY   BURKE  J     OR, 


V 


«on  I  told  jc^VS'sent''tr7'"»""''°^« 
here  he  has  been  bu  a  we^fc  j  "  ^.''T' "  »'>.V, 
she  comes  to  tell  me  that  .^h^  ""''"''•'•nee,  and 
"'ere  any  more  -  becTase  f  ""?u'  """^  '"« 
R-otestant  school  DW  v^'  '"■'°?"'  •'  ''  »  a 
a  silly  woman ' "  '  ^  °"  "^^'^  hear  of  such 

P'felLsKtt'ielT^ii'  ^'•-  ^^»'«- 

ciation  of  the  hmems^M  J^^T^^'  We- 
hacl  conferred  on  tte  wor  ^  f  ««'°™ation 
wg detestation  of  PoDiTf, !;,"''  ?  «0'>espond- 
andwhat  not  -  and  h^K,™  "'""'' ^''Pemition. 
that  his  wife  shouM  Lt  t'"''''""^- <'<'"««ted 
hoy,  With  a  view  to  hit  ^'"■?''  °'"  ">«  Wsh 
«>rs  of  Popen      On  fv""''"?'""  Aom  the  er- 

pecnliarly  Swvf  and  1^"*'  *^"'  ^'  ^«« 
his  sallow  cheek  as  Zl  """^ysh^y  was  on 
ing  party.  "*  ^^  approached  the  offend- 

"-agittliKt  'hS  vr  \"'"  ''^  =«•"'  «  » 
wnch  better  ehanfl  l'""  ^°-^' *'"'  have  a 
"[orW,  by  ear^  ""e^brfinrtr""?  '"  «>« 
views  and  doctrines  of  Pr^f  ?""  .^"hghtened 
assure  you,  my  wo^  jl  f-!:!'^ ',   'T 

>-  Wish  you?  sonr;^:-^"t{-^.^r 


iTIE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


41 


yon  will  rather  urge   him  to  pass   into  the 
brighter  raj's  of  Gospel  truth." 

'^  Well,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Burke,  moclestl}',  3'ct 
firmly,  "  it  may  be  all  true  what  3-ou  say,  but 
all  his  forebearers,  since  the  clays  of  St.  Pat- 
rick, have  lived  an'  died  Catholics,  an'  so  ,,ill 
lie,  with  God's  help.  I'm  a  poor  ignorant  wo- 
man, sir,  as  regards  the  learnin'  of  this  world 
— but  in  the  matter  of  religion  I  know  ray 
duty  to  myself  an'  my  children,  an'  with  God's 
help  I'll  do  it ;  for,  let  us  be  poor  or  rich  in 
this  world,  it'll  be  all  the  same  at  the  hour  of 
death  ;  an'  we'll  never  be  so  foolish  as  to  give 
up  our  religion  for  the  sake  of  the  poor  perish- 
able things  of  this  wicked  world." 

"Yes;  but,  poor  misguided  creature,"  went 
on  Mr.  Watkins,  "  how  do  you  know  that  your 
religion  is  right,  after  all  ?  Confessedly  un- 
learned as  3^ou  are,  and,  I  suppose,  totally'  un- 
acquainted with  the  Holy  Scriptures,  how  can 
you  tell  whether  you  are  in  the  way  of  salva- 
tion or  not  ?  " 

"  Why,  sir,  I  believe  what  the  Church  pro- 
poses to  me,  an'  I'm  sure  there's  no  other  safe 
guide  on  earth.  Christ  himself  is  with  her  all 
days,  an'  will  be  to  the  end  —  an'  so  she  can't 
bo  wrong." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Watkins,  peevishly, 
"  I  see  the  priests  teach  their  dupes  some  little 
Scripture,  just  what  it  suits  them  to  bring  for- 
ward ;  but  this  is  mere  loss  of  time.  Settle 
with  this  pious  woman,  Mrs.  Watkins,  (and  he 


42 


^I-t-r  BtJBKE  ;    OB, 


'•<"'  ^^i"eeslfcc,^,f7^«".on  the  adjective^ 
l^'l  to  take  lesso„s1,Z"r  P"'r  ^'-^-  ••'"o^  )>o 

'■>■•  tb.,   no,"-  ■tL™"»"  !»••  «ol  S 

n«ss,  but  TvUh  g'^  »\'»f.  ^'»-  a"  Jour  jjood 

ca„|e  about  tt°f  ^S  ri'^ljl  ?»" --^ 
Me  th  ngs  j„  jjj^  oi,  so  I  u  b„ng  home 

TvantW  them  for  some  ^f >.      ,^'°"  ^'gh*  be 

■liierewas  a  slio-i.f  ^„  ,  *be  same  w;iv '• 
tincture  of  irom? •'/  Z  t'T^  ^Percept  bje 
tbe  siieater  herself  wo  '  "'°''''«'  of  which 

gav.  no  smanS^o  reHt  r"' '  ^"' « 
IV hen  she  was  gone  in,,Jl   ,       bearers,  who 

invective  ngaiSluTp^^r'  '"»<>  "bitter' 
Wither  horses  wiratt'nc^'  ^-^'^  '^^^ 


till  thei;  hXrwe     ^'^  ^''P'^t^' 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


43 


a 


what 


ter;    if 
in»  and 

"  good- 
i  never 
home 
?ht  be 
jou'd 
way," 

pti'ble 

w^hich 

)ut  it 

who, 

)itter 

isted 

iiiei' 


entered  their  poor  but  neat  dwelling, 
did  the  ladj*  say  ?  " 

"Indeed,  Willy,  dear,  she  said  and  done 
what  I  didn't  expect  from  her.  Poor,  simple 
woman  that  I  was,  sure  I  thought  she  would 
not  be  angry  with  us  for  bein'  true  to  our  own 
religion,  but,  God  help  me,  1  knew  little  about 
it ;  not  only  herself,  but  Mi\  Watkins  himself, 
tried  to  hoodwink  me  into  lettin'  you  go  to  the 
school ;  an*  then  when  they  found  it  wouldn't 
do,  they  paid  me  off,  an'  said  I  wasn't  to  have 
any  more  work  there;  and  that's  not  all, 
Willy  "  —  she  added,  taking  off  her  bonnet  and 
sitting  down  by  the  f^re  — "for  I'm  to  take 
back  the  clothes,  unless  3'ou  go  to  their  school 
again." 

"Well,  then,  mother,  they  can  have  them 
this  very  minute,"  said  the  high-spirited  bf 
"  for,  now  that  we  know  what  they're  aboui^ 
an'  that  it's  tryin'  to  make  mo  a  turncoat  they 
are,  I  wouldn't  wear  the--  clothes.  So  don't 
fret  about  that,  mother,  dear !  for  I'd  sooner 
go  in  rags  than  keep  them,  when  that's  the 
way.  But  what  troubles  me  is,  that  }  ou  have 
lost  a  good  friend  through  my  means  ;  for  Mrs. 
Watkins  always  paid  you  well."  And  the 
tears  which  bis  own  disappointment  could  not 
draw  forth  now  burst  from  his  eyes,  as  he 
thought  of  his  mother's  loss,  —  a  loss  so  very 
serious  in  its  probable  consequences. 

"  NfiVP.r    minrl      Willv      nax'^i*    *«i«/I  »  "    -«,«,, 

the  widow's  pious  answer,  "  God  is  more  pow- 


44 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


\ 


erful  than  all  the  world,  an'  if  it  be  his  hol^ 
will,  he  can  an'  will  make  up  this  loss  anMf 
he  doesn't,  why,  blessed  be  his  holy  na™;  -  we'H 

ItmZl  ""■  "'  ''°"'^'"'*  "°  "'"^-^^e  than 
ive  cUd,  unless  we  wanted  to  sell  ourselves  for 

the  poor  paltry  comforts  of  this  world  " 

h»  „■]  «;:ening,  when  Peter  came  home    as 

mtif;^-ngr:,t\"If^"'r'  ^'^  P-  ■'^' 

.     °^*i"gs,   as  usual,   to   his  motlipr    nnri 

as  long  as  my  arm ! "  "^ 

^nl'  ^"k'*?'*'  ^"**"''"  ^»"'  J»is  mother,  "  there's 

n  thl  *f'^<'™y  advice,  he'd  put  his  little  ^"Si 

hey^  trouble  t  *'  "'^''''■"'  ^'^^  «"'  tht 
Deeded  to  r^u.  ^  no  more."  She  then  pro- 
ceeaed  to  relate  how  they  had  found  out  the 

the  snare  ere  yet  it  was  too  late.        "''^'''^'^^ 
Orreat  was  her  surprise,  and  irreater  still  )io. 

S's  a"fhajM'?''  ="■''  ^"^  ^""^  "°™  «en«e, - 
,. ,  .     .^^^^^  ^^jg  mother,  with  a 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA 


45 


wild  look  of  astonishment,  "  what  do  you 
mean,  at  all  ? 

"  I  just  mean  this,  mother ! "  returned  the 
boy,  in  a  bold,  confident  tone  ;  "  that  I  only 
"wish  such  a  chance  had  been  thrown  in  ray 
way,  an'  you'd  see  how  soon  I'd  jump  at  it." 

"God  forbid,  Peter,  dear!"  said  the  poor 
woman,  with  affecting  solemnity,  while  the  tears 
coursed  down  her  withered  cheek,  "  God  for- 
bid, acushla  machree  I  for  that  'id  be  jumpin' 
into  the  middle  o'  danger  —  it  'id  be  nothiu* 
else  but  temptin'  the  Lord  !  " 

"  Danger  !  "  repeated  Peter,  contemptuously, 
"  danger,  indeed  !  don't  you  think,  mother,  that 
I  could  stick  to  my  own  religion,  if  all  the 
Protestants  in  New  York  were  hammerin'  their 
lies  into  my  head  ?  —  ay  !  to  be  sure,  could  I ; 
an'  as  I  said,  if  I  had  Willy's  chance,  I  wouldn't 
be  the  fool  to  throw  it  over  my  shoulder,  as  he 
did." 

Ilis  brother  was  about  to  repl}',  his  cheek 
glowing  with  honest  indignation,  when  one  of 
the  little  girls  called  out,  "  Ilusht,  all  o'  ye  I 
there's  some  stranger  comin'  up  the  stairs." 

Here  the  woman  of  the  house  (from  whom 
Mrs.  Burke  rented  her  two  rooms)  was  heard 
calling  out  from  the  bottom  of  the  stairs  — 
"  Open  the  door,  Mrs.  Burke  !  here's  a  lady  to 


>> 


see  you. 

IIastenin<;'  to  the  door^  with  the  candle  in  her 
hand,  Biddy  was  just  in  time  to  receive  Mrs. 
Watkins.     "  You  see  I  l^ave  found  you  out  1 " 


46 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


"X 


toni.h«ent.    "  The  t-  ?h  "^T  '"*  ''  «- 
Willy  up  so  easily,  and  I  I,!'       '""'"°'  g"e 
purpose  (though  scareXf  ^"'^  """"«  ''^e %„ 
t  >e  eounlrj)  to  try  afc^?,""- ''eturned from 
him  to  me  on  MonZ-'I        °"  ^■°"  '<>  send 
Xou,  Willv?"  she  3  """fn'og.     What  sav 

ing  clown  his  fah  hair  "'''  ^"'"^  °^«r  «nd  strofcl 

to  do'Tm-:;"  ^mh  '""'f^  "■«-'"  for  me 

«^akW  a  respect?'' br!''.:t"f^  «p,  and 
"Well,  Mrs.  Burke    Imw  ?''?,^"ows  best." 

member  all  I  promised'to  do  f  "  *°  ^'  '    ««" 

^o  not  lightly  cast  away  ht  l'^',°f '°"'  ^"^ 

.    have  no  children  of  m ^  „        ^°°''  fortune.    I 

«?ying  what  he  aay'^^^t"'  "°f  thfe  is  no 

h.m  trustworthy  ancT  obedient'"''""''^  we  find 

?^r^^^^^T-^r'^^  »  ^ood 
the  temptation  be  ever  so  i.^?  *?>"* '  "  "^"t  let 
f  ty  to  accept  it,  evclnf,  '  ^"^  "ot  at  lib- 
to  bring  him  up  ;  the  Cl^:°»  «ou'd  promise 
"^'that's  what  you  couIdn'/H^''*r'"''' Church, 
When  everything  abo^t  hTm  .f^"]  ^^"""^  "«" 
an'  him  always  listeZ'  t-  ^  P^testant, 

•e'igion  as  I  hean'm  "  e  f  Z'^  *""'  .»''o«t  our' 
»o>  ma'am,  dear,  do"t  ask  .«»  -  ?''"'"' '  ^h, 
slave  an'  toil  for  mv  child  •?  r^  "  '^"'i"'  to 
see  him  poor  an'  nikp^  f  '  ""l  ^  '"i  hear  to 

-  "-Ker  01  forgettln'  his  reli^-'.  '"y-  ^^      ^ 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


47 


I'm  thankful  to  3^ou,  ma'am,  God  knows  I 
am  !  for  all  3-our  good  intentions  with  regard  to 
Will}',  an'  I'm  heart  sorry  3-011  took  the  trouble 
o'  comin'  here  to-night  to  this  poor  place,  an' 
all  alone,  too." 

"  Oh,  that  is  of  no  consequence,"  said  Mrs. 
"Watkins,  evasively-,  for  she  chose  to  suppress 
the  fact  that  her  husband  was  waiting  in  the 
carriage  at  the  door.  Neither  did  it  serve  her 
purpose  to  acknowledge  that  both  had  been 
induced  to  take  this  step  by  the  report  re- 
ceived a  daj'  or  two  before  from  the  school- 
master, that  Will}'  Burke  was  no  common  bo}', 
and  deserved  a  far  better  fate  than  being  suf- 
fered to  remain  in  the  darkness  of  Poperj'. 

*'But  wh'T*  a  fine  family  you  have,  Mrs. 
Burke,"  sai  1  >  lady,  looking  round  ;  and  her 
eye  rested  on  i:*eter.  "  Is  this  youth  another 
son  of  5'ours  ?  " 

"  That's  my  eldest  son,  ma'am,"  replied  the 
mother,  and  her  voice  trembled  as  she  spoke. 
"  He's  been  earnin'  somethin'  for  us  this  time 
back." 

Whether  it  was  that  the  ladj^  saw  something 
in  the  bo3''s  look  that  gave  her  better  hopes  of 
him,  or  whether  she  merely  sjioke  at  random, 
she  addressed  him  in  a  gracious  manner  — 
"  What  do  you  think,  my  bo}',  of  this  decision 
of  your  mother  ?  " 

"  Just  this,  ma'am :  that  if  the  offer  were 
made  to  me,  instead  of  Willy,  I  wouldn't  be 
the  fool  to  refuse  it." 


48 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


"  In  that  case  you  shall  have  the  same  offer, 
for  I  see  3-011  know  how  to  appreciate  an  ad- 
vantage. Will  you  embrace  the  proposal  that 
your  brother  has  rejected  ?  *' 

"  That  will  I,  ma'am,  with  a  heart  and  a 
half,  let  who  will  say  no." 

"  Oh,  r^'ter,  Peter !  "  cried  his  mother,  with 
a  passionate  burst  of  tears,  *' don't  say  that 
achorra  f  or  you'll  break  your  mother's  heart' 
because  you  are  just  goin'  headlong  into  temp- 
tation." ^ 

"  I  don't  care  mother,  —  I'm  old  enough  an' 
wise  enough  to  take  care  o'  myself,  an'  you'll 
see  I  can  keep  to  my  religion  as  well  as  your- 
self or  Willy  either  ;  for  all  that,  I'll  becatchin' 
the  larnin'  when  I  can  get  it." 

*'  Well,  then,  on  Mondav  I'll  expect  \'ou  " 
said  Mrs,  Watkins  ;  *'  and  i  hope,  Peter,  you 
will  not  listen  to  an3'thing  3'our  mother  can  say 
against  your  coming ;  for,  though  she  is  a  good, 
well-meaning  woman,  she  has  no  knowledo-e  of 
the  world."  ^ 

"Never  fear,  ma'am,"  was  Peter's  reply; 
*'  if  I'm  livin',  you'll  see  me  early  a  Monday 
mornin'."  *^ 

So  with  a  cold  "  Good-night,  Mrs.  Burke,  I 
hope  3'ou'll  soon  come  to  a  better  understand- 
ing," good  Mrs.  Watkins  retired,  little  carino- 
for  the  heavy  load  of  misery  she  had  cast  on 
the  already  afflicted  widow,  and  heedless  of  the 
^v«xi..ii  a„,;«a  KJi  aisscuEJiuii  BO  FecKiessiy  sown 
in  that  hitherto  united  and  affectionate  family. 


THE  IRISH   ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA. 


49 


CHAPTER  III. 


HONESTY  THE  BEST  POLICY. 

ON  Monday  morning,  according  to  promise, 
Peter  Burke  repaired  to  the  house  of  Mrs. 
Watkins,  and  as  his  clothes  were  in  tolerably 
good  condition,  he  was  sent  off  at  once  to 
school,  loaded  with  his  brother's  rejected  books. 
The  boy's  heart  was  naturally  good,  though 
even  then  less  or  more  tainted  by  the  compan- 
ionship of  the  ungodly  with  whom  he  had  been 
broucrht  into  contact.  He  was  deeply  touched 
by  the  sight  of  his  mother's  tears,  when  she 
saw  him  leave  home  on  what  she  deemed  a 
perilous  errand  ;  and  the  rising  demon  of  ana- 
bition  within  his  soul  had  to  fight  a  hard  battle 

for  his  prey. 

"  God's  blessin'  be  about  you,  Peter  I  ^  said 
his  mother,  in  a  choking  voice ;  "  an'  I'm  m 
dread,  poor  fellow,  that  you're  puttin'  yourself 
in  the  way  of  losin'  it  altogether,  for  it's  a  bad 
beginnin'  for  man  or  woman  to  slight  the  ad- 
vice of  their  parents.     An'  another  thing,  it  s 

_  t-_  J  _: 4-^  «r^rt  oT^tr  r»no  an  nroiid  OUt  O*  thClT 

own  strength.    But  I  see  there's  no  use  talKiu 


%. 


50 


VtLLf  BtTRlCE  ;    Oft, 


X 


to  you,  poor  foolish  boy,  so  I  can  onty  pray 
that  God  may  save  j'oirfrom  the  clanger  that 
you're  plungin'  j-ourself  into  I  *' 

"Do,  then,  mother  dear,  pray  to  God  for 
me  ;  though  I'm  sure  there's  no  such  danger  as 
3'ou  think,  for  I  hope  I'm  too  steadfast  in  my 
religion  to  let  anything  draw  me  away  from  it. 
But  it  grieves  me  sorely,  mother,  that  I'll  not 
be  earnin'  anj-thing  for  yon  now,  an'  jou 
wantin'  it  so  badly  —  indeed  it  does,  mother ; 
sn'  only  I'm  in  hopes  that  I'll  soon  be  able  to 
do  better  for  you,  I  wouldn't  go  at  all ;  that's 
as  true  as  I'm  standin'  here." 

"  Oh !  as  to  that,  Peter,"  replied  his  mother, 
still  weeping  bitterly,  "it  doesn't  cost  me  a 
thought  —  for  sure  God  is  a  rich  provider,  an' 
he'll  send  me  an'  mine  enough  to  live  on. 
An'  who  knows  but  j^ou'U  be  turned  against 
them  people  and  their  temptations,  the  same 
as  Willy  was  — so  I'll  not  fret  so  much  about 
it  till  I  see."  This  new'  ray  of  hope  dried  up 
the  widow's  tears,  and  gave  her  a  degree  of 
strength  and  courage  in  the  presence  of  this 
new  affliction. 

"  Mother,  do  you  know  what  I'm  thinkin'?" 
said  Willy,  a  little  while  after  his  brother's 
departure. 
"No,  then,  alanna;  what  is  it? " 
"  Why,  don't  you  think  it  'id  be  a  good  thing 
if  I  was  to  go  and  speak  to  Mr.  Miller  ?  Who 
knows,  but  as  Peter*s  gone,  he'd  give  me  his 
place?  an*  then  you'd  be  as  well  off  as  ever." 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


51 


1I3'  pray 
>er  that 

jrod  for 
mger  as 
r  in  my 
from  it. 
I'll  not 
-n*  3'oii 
nother ; 
able  to 
;  that's 

nother, 
b  me  a 
ier,  an* 
ve  on. 
against 
3  same 
I  about 
:ied  up 
Tee  of 
of  this 

kin'?" 
other's 


1  thing 
Who 
me  his 
ver." 


"  Sure  enough,  child,  it's  a  good  thought," 
said  his  mother,  "  but  somehow  or  another  I'm 
afraid  to  trust  you  in  it ;  for  only  Peter  got 
into  bad  company  in  the  same  place,  he'd  never 
be .  so  headstrong  in  his  own  opinion,  or  go 
against  his  mother's  biddin'." 

Willy's  countenance  fell ;  the  light  of  hope 
which  for  a  moment  illumined  it  was  quickly 
gone,  but  still  he  thought  not  of  opposing  his 
mother's  declared  opinion.  "Well,  mother, 
you  know  best ;  but  if  it  was  pleasin'  to  you, 
I'd  be  glad  to  be  doin'  somethin'." 

*'  I  know  that,  Willy  dear,  —I  know  it  very 
well ;  but  let  us  pray  to  God  that  somethin' 
may  turn  up  that  you  can  go  to  without  any 
danger.  Fray,  my  son,  —  an'  we'll  all  pray 
—  an'  let  us  not  forget  poor  Peter  in  our 
prayers." 

And  Willy  did  wait  patiently  and  submis- 
sively ;  and  that  evening,  when  his  mother's 
work  was  done,  the  little  famil}^  knelt  together 
in  the  presence  of  God,  and  invoked  his  bless- 
ing and  protection  for  themselves  and  all  dear 
to  them.  Thej^  waited  up  long  after  their 
usual  hour  of  retiring  to  rest,  in  hopes  of 
Peter's  return,  but  Peter  did  not  appear  ;  and 
at  last  the  poor  anxious  mother  threw  herself 
on  her  humble  bed,  to  weep  and  pray  rather 
than  to  sleep. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  Willy 
strolled  out  into  the  street,  and,  becoming  in- 
sensibly diverted  from  his  melancholy  by  the 


62 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


X 


variei;^   oi  objects  which  everywhere  mpt    h!o 
view,  without  being  at  all  consdous  tMt  the 
day  was  already  on  the  decline.     His  atten 
tion  was  first  called  to  the  lateness  of  the  ho  "r 
by  the  rapidly  increasing  gloom  ;  and  feS 

notTith     1?^  ^^'^'"^'  ■»«  ^««  hnrryingL^r 
n,  tltK  "i-''^^  "S  *°  """ke  frequent  inqS 

gone'far'o^n?  h°"  '^  f  °""'  *''^«'  ^"^  ^"^^^ 
gone  lar  out  of  his  own  latitude,  .vhen  nassincr 

mother.     Eagerly  and  closely  he  grasDed  hU 

door      trr"  ^'^^'  ^"^'°  ^  few  feet  of  the 

festecFand  f  r^-?'  /*"P    ^««    «»d<lenly  ar! 
rested,  and  the  tide  of  joy  rolled  back  from  his 

heart  as  he  remembered,  "  This  money  is  not 
^  lo^iiT/  T  -^T  -^^PP^'^l  "'  an'L  may 

do  whatever's  blsUo  brd^r- ""*''  ""'  ^^^'" 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IX    AMERICA. 


53 


"  Thank  God !  "  cried  Mrs.  Burke  as  her  son 
reached  the  top  of  the  stairs,- and,  throwing 
open  the  door,  entered  the  little  room  where  she 
was  preparing  their  homely  supper.  "Sure, 
I  was  frightened  about  you,  Willy,  not  know- 
ing what  had  become  of  you." 

"  Look  here,  mother ! "  said  the  boy,  and  he 
held  out  on  his  open  palm  the  glittering  con- 
tents of  the  little  package.  "Look  what  I 
found ! " 

"Arrah,  then,  Willy  dear,  where  in  the 
world  did  you  find  such  a  power  o*  money? 
one  'id  think  you  had  beeja:  with  the  fairies, 
Lord  save  us  !  "  / 

"  Not  a  fairy  or  fairies/^  mother ;  for  I  just 
found  it  lyin'  rolled  up  tight,  in  some  dark, 
narrow  street,  as  I  came  along  home,  an'  I  was 
so  uplifted  that  I  scarcely  felt  the  ground  un- 
der me  as  I  came  along.  But  then,  just  out- 
side there,  I  began  to  think  that  it  was  no 
great  chance,  after  all,  for  that  we  couldn't 
keep  it."  And  the  poor  fellow  sat  down  by  the 
fire  with  a  heavy  sigh. 

"That's  my  own  bouchal  ban,  now,"  said 
his  mother,  as  she  wiped  away  the  tears  of  joy 
which  filled  her  eyes.  "I'd  rather  hear  you 
say  them  words,  Willy,  than  if  the  whole  money 
was  our  own,  honestly  earned  —  God  sees  I 
would ! " 

"  An'  what  will  we  do  with  the  money, 
mother  ?  "  Willy  asked.  "  Sure  we  don't  know 
where  to  find  the  owner  of  it." 


B4 


WILLY  burke;    or, 


V 


wherowifh  +  V  K  priest,  slie  had  scarce/v 

Piece  Of  the  goW  et^elr^r S^ef  S  ;?; 
LX  with  Wo'rnT^"*^''  "^<''^'  "  ^^ 

r"wait^'\    rh^dTatnlir^  ^  r^'' 
and  was  DreDarin^f^  i  £  "*'*  vestments 

stepping  fSdfh^rt''''^*''^  '°°'"'  ^''«°. 

or  a  silvery  hue  nnri  fK«  /i  *^  '2  ^  ^^  ^^^st 
indented  Ixfs  S  forehead  toM  fZT  ^•^'^'^ 
had  been  n^anj-  and  t'^a^s  son-o:s''tr" 

thei. glance  was^Hi^-rC^riii^e' 


\ 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


55 


the  morn- 
ler,  "an' 
he  might 
:ive  it  out 

me  when 
>f  giving 
scarcely 
Bxt  day, 
ven  one 
lind  ;  or, 
\  it  was 
3  a  foul 

Ife  went 
n  Mass 
vestry- 
corner, 
itments 
,  when, 
urtesy, 
snough 
a  few 
I  mild, 
form. 
t  least 
which 
3'ears 
3,  too. 
h  his 

f»  yet 
make 


one  feel  that  they  could  pierce  the  heart,  and 
read  what  was  passing  there. 

*'  Certainl}',  my  good  woman,  certainly," 
he  said,  in  reply  to  Mrs.  Burke's  request; 
*'  what  have  you  got  to  tell  me  ?  " 

"  It's  about  some  mone}^  sir,  that  a  little 
boy  of  mine  found  yesterday  evenin* ;  an'  as 
we  don't  know  what  to  do  to  find  the  owner,  I 
thought  it  was  best  to  bring  it  to  your  rev- 
erence. "  And  so  saying,  she  held  out  the  little 
roll  to  the  priest. 

The  latter  merely  glanced  at  the  money,  and 
then,  slowly  raising  his  eyes  to  the  face  of  her 
who  presented  it,  he  saw  that  sorrow  and  care, 
aye,  and  poverty,  had  worn  away  a  fair  and 
comely  countenance.  He  looked,  from  the  old 
straw  bonnet  which  covered  her  head,  to  the 
thin,  threadbare  shawl  so  closely  gathered 
around  her  meagre  form,  and  then  to  the  old 
shoes  on  her  feet,  and  he  saw  that  all  was 
scrupulousl}^  clean,  but  nevertheless  expressive 
of  extreme  poverty.  He  stretched  out  his 
hand  and  took  the  cartridge :  *'  Is  It  silver,  or 
what?"  he  asked. 

*'  It's  gold,  your  reverence !  for  the  boy 
opened  it  to  see  what  it  was." 

"  And  3'ou  seem,  my  poor  woman,"  said 
the  priest  in  a  faltering  voice,  "  as  though  a 
little  money,  silver  or  gold,  would  be  very  ac- 
ceptable." 

A  slight  flush  mounted  to  poor  Biddy's 
cheek,  as  she  replied,  with  downcast  eyes, 


66 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


\ 


Why,  sir,  there's  many  better  off  than  I  am 
an  some  worse  ;  but  sure  whatever  way  I'mIS' 
me  an' mme,  it's  the  will  o'  God,  an'  werome 
be  It,  for  ever  and  ever."  welcome 

More  and  more  interested,  the  priest  went 
on  to  inquire  into  her  actual   circumstancts 
a..d  gradually  drew  from  her  a  confessfon  tw 
three  children  were  altogether ^^(1 
her  daily  labor,  while  hef  heaUh  was  iaLlv 
on  the  decline,  though,  as  she  saidrshe Xve 
to  conceal  it  from  them.  ^^ 

.nH  ^*"l  "^  P°*"'  *'''''<^'"  said  the  good  priest 

done  anything  but'  'o„Tdu?;VXg''up'C 
money ;  for  no  Christian,  at  least  withv  of 
the  name  could  have  appropriated  aC/an1 
of  It,  to  his  or  her  own  use,  without  sinning 
grievously  against  the  law  of  God ;  vet  I  wm 
own  that,  situated  as  you  are.Tt  m,^t  have 
been  a  sore  temptation  to  you  " 

God'lf'Le-dT"^'', ''"  '/  ^'^-fc'ft'l"  So  d 
l^od  If  bed   be  pleased  to  give  me  or  n,v 

children  a  means  of  earnin'^that  we  eoSd 
depend  on,  yet,  somehow  or  another,  I  wasn't 

"  Why,  tliis  unlearned,  simple  woman,^'  said 


X 


TUE    IRISH   ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA. 


57 


ffW 


the  priest  to  himself,  "is  a  pattern  of  true 
and    unassuming    piety!"     Aloud    he   said: 
*'  And  what  is  j-our  name,  my  good  woman  ?  ** 
''My  married  name  is  Burke,  please  your 
reverence,  —  Biddy  Burke." 

The  name  seemed  to  strike  familiarly  on  the 
ear  of  the  listener.  "Burke,  Burke,"  he  re- 
peated two  or  three  times,  as  though  endeavor- 
ing to  connect  some  detached  remembrances, 
"  and  from  what  part  of  Ireland  do  you  come  ?" 
"From  the  county  Tippe^:;:*'-,  sir,  an*  the 
parish  of  Kilbeggan,  if  y)ur  i.. u'erence  ever 
heard  of  such  a  place." 

The  priest,  instead  of  repl;  np- ,  x)k  out  his 
memorandum-book,  and  aftei  turning  over  its 
leaves  for  a  few  seconds,  he  paused,  ^  nd  gin  need 
his  eye  over  a  certain  page.  '^  ind  your 
husband's  name  —  his  Christian  name  —  was 
Andrew,  or  Andy,  was  it  not  ?  " 

"  Why  then  it  was,  sir ! "  said  Biddy,  now 
thoroughly  awakened  to  curiosity.  "Andy 
Burke  was  his  name,  sir ;  an%  thanks  be  to  the 
great  God !  I'm  neither  afraid  nor  ashamed  to 
own  it,  —  may  his  soul  rest  in  peace  !  for  it's 
himself  was  the  good  husband  all  out.  But, 
sir,  how  did  you  know  his  name,  if  I'm  not 
makin'  too  free  in  askin'  ?  " 

Unheeding  her  last  words,  the  priest  raised  his 
swimming  eyes  to  heaven.  "  Merciful  God  !  '* 
he  exclaimed,  with  fervor,  "how  mysterious 
arc  thy  ways,  —  by  what  devious  paths  dost 
thou  sometimes  conduct  us,  thy  children,  to 


Mi'M 


58 


WILLY  BURKE  ;    OR, 


\ 


BtS?.tirr,  IrS'  %^ood  Mrs. 

to  ten  you  may  well  jusU^VLrn""'"  ^°'"^ 
denco  in  God  Kn^i  *i  '  "  P.""^  P'°"3  confi- 
past  I  have  btn  anx^o;;  j  '"•"'  *''*  ^°'  """ths 
«nd  your  family  aTolf/'"^"""" '''«'''•  3°" 
Ireland  havbg  ;,»?««  to"^  ^T  ^"«"'J  '» 
casually  heard  of  ™  r  J  ^  T  .*'"'*  ''«  ^^ad 
and  fea'red  that  Vo„  mf^5^  ^T^"^"^''  ^<"'«', 
necessitous  circumstan™'f  V^^'f?'-"'  ^  5" 

the  wondrous  Ccv  of  our^°T,*"''1"''*«  "^ 
he  thrown  this  n,^L    ■      '  ^"'''  —  here  has 
inspired  you  tifh^^^  '•"  your  son's  way,  and 
of  giving^U  up  to  mP  f     "^^  ''°'^  P^H'ose 
end^eavor'to  fiTd  ftsT;„'er  •'"!'!h'  ^If' ^.  "''«''» 
I  might  discover  the Tw^t  J'^  *"  t**"'  «>»» 
you  obtain  a  friend      T^LLT/fT"^^  ""^ 
that  «>,•«««  brinaethit,  i    ^    "*"*  '*  "'««''  said, 
as  though  to  Self         "  ''''^'^"  "« '"•ded, 

almot"eS4y'"'^fhe''L:i''''  ^"'^  ^'"^W^', 
raise  up  friend?  fo^  ♦),«!,  *u°5**  "^^'^■"  ^^Is  to 

in  Him,  an' dc^s  wh*\'?H*'''''  P"*'  *'^«"  t™«t 
Bnt  wil  you.  revereni  h5  *""  *"  "bey  him. 

now"^'  i    o';  ^l^tf^  ."?    about  him 

«'?sping  her    hand  " fe^'eX' L*'it  "«''"^' 
might  a'  known  it  wafllJlfi^, /"tether.     "I 

"y  ^eai-t  to  hear  that  ie-doSn^fol^-'-" 


\ 


THE   IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


59 


ood  Mrs. 
ow  going 
us  confi- 
f  months 
ifter  you. 
'riend  in 
lie  had 
s  death, 
';  be  in 
note  of 
lere  has 
aj^  and 
purpose 
^  might 
is,  that 
5h,  and 
in  said, 
added, 

Biddy, 
lils  to 
•  trust 
r  him. 
to  tell 
s?" 

your 

him 
idow, 

"I 
•aises 
t  us, 


though  we're  so  far  away.  But  sure  he  said 
he'd  remember  us,  an'  it  seems  he  does. 
But  I'm  keopin'  j'our  reverence  standin*  too 
long,  an'  so  I'll  not  trespass  any  longer  now," 

"Well,  mother,  what  news?"  was  Willy's 
earnest  inquiry,  as  his  mother  entered  the 
room  on  her  return. 

"  Just  the  old  stor}^  over  again,  my  son : 
that  '' Honesty* s  the  best  policy!*  Sure  I 
always  said  that  God  'id  do  for  us,  an',-  glory 
be  to  his  holy  name,  he  has  raised  up  a  friend 
for  us  alread}'." 

"  Why,  what  in  the  world  has  happei  3d  to 
you,  mother?  for  it's  long  since  I  seen  you 
lookin'  so  joyful." 

"  An'  well  I  maj',  Willy  dear  !  for  sure  when 
I  went  to  give  that  money  (an*  it  was  the 
luck}^  money  all  out)  to  the  priest,'  he  b^gan 
to  question  me,  an'  when  he  found  out  who  I. 
was,  he  was  mighty  glad  entirely,  for  it  seems 
that  poor  Father  Maloney,  God's  blessin'  be 
about  him !  is  an  old  friend  of  his,  an'  wrote 
to  him  about  us,  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  your 
poor  father's  death ;  so  his  reverence  was  ever 
since  wishin'  to  find  us  out,  but  couldn't  hear 
anything  of  us  till  the  Lord  put  it  in  my  head 
to  go  with  the  monc3\" 

On  hearing  Father  Maloney's  name  men- 
tioned, the  two  little  girls  cried  out  with  great 
joy, "  Och,  then,  mother,  dear,  did  his  reverence 
write  about  usf"  while  Willy  pulled  out  his 


60 


WILLY  BUKKE  ;     OR, 


\ 


S"ch  as  the  poor  bovL^f  n5  ^^'J  '"«^«'  «"<» 

"An'  yo„  tell  me  herll    .r/  "'''"^  "'^''ow- 
an'  that  L  w.^  e  to  put^  hf  ^''^."^'""^er, 

°s;-well,  that's  the  best  "«  ^°?'l^°'-'l  fo' 

jn^ny  a  day,  an'  I'd  ratherLarTfJ  '"'?/''  *Ws 

.  ''ody  gave  ns  a  thousand  n^  ".,*'''"'  '^  some- 

«aW  he'd  keep  ns  auTn^?'?"''"/'  >>"'  sure  ho 

that  all?"     P  "^  ""  »n  mind.    An' mother,  is 

"fo;'^h;tTe;f;;id"t^'':"p"i  '^'^  •»°tj'-. 

sure  that  same  «i^l  be  ,^°"f  *"  ««^  "«-  ««' 
even  if  he  can  do  nothfnf  t^\T^°''*  *"  "«- 
does  a  body  good  le?  ti.!-^  *°  ''^'P  "«  '•  for  it 
jnay,  to  see'  ft  t  c' "o^i^^^S'  '/  "'''''  '' 
s  never  so  lonesome  ^■UeTV}VI±''' '  ""e 


i«^  never  70  , ZsCe 'Xt'  ^""^"'^  ''<'-"- 
they  knowr  then  that  th?  .^"^^ '^«  ""e™.  for 
friend.  But  n"  tdl  yon  C'in  ""]  '^•">°"t  « 
want  you  to  do;  I'm  le?t'in^v  •^''  '*^"'  ^''"'t  I 
^ter,  an'  if  you'd  iust  ^  J""^''^>'a''ont 

^^atkins'sintheevenin'  wZ  ''°""  *°  ^rs. 
home  from  school -"nihlfwr"  *?'n'^  he's 
I  have  neither  love  nor  likin'f*''^  '"'j""'  ""at 
1  wish  that  he'd  come  ovei  /  -T""  *®"  ^'"^ 
f  all.  I  want  to  Zak?o  l.-  "'^J"'' ''" ''«  ««" 
his  duty."  *'^'"'  *°  'inn  about  goin'  to 

When  evening  was  eomo  wn 
errand,    being    hCse?f   nn,^    -^  "^^"^  °"  h'^ 
brother.   On  arrivi^r„f  i,?  "".""^    *»  see    his 
iefound  ^rCZr^^^^!^^  "^o-! 
-^".^.-ooo.  to  the  lady,  havrng-'b^eTcaUeli^t 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


61 


'he  tears 
-re,  and 
efore. 
mother, 
'ord  for 
ard  thia 
f  some^ 
sure  liG 
ther,  is 

lotber, 
»s,  an* 
to  us, 
ibr  it 
hat  it 
>•  one 
n,  for 
H7t  a 
hat  I 
ibout 
Mrs. 
he's 
that 
hini 
can 
a' to 

his 

his 
use, 

his 
nto 


the  parlor  for  that  purpose.  Mr.  Watkins  was 
seated  in  a  high-backed  chair  near  the  fire,  and 
had  raised  his  head  from  a  book  which  he  had 
been  reading,  in  order  to  bestow  his  meed 
of  praise  on  Peter's  progress.  Just  at  this 
moment,  Willy  was  shown  in,  by  Mrs.  Wat- 
kins's  orders,  but  he  advanced  no  fiirther  than 
just  within  the  door,  and  stood  with  his  cap  in 
his  hand,  modestly  waiting  for  some  one  to 
speak. 

"Peter,  there  is  your  brother,"  said  the 
lady  ;  and  when  the  lad  turned  quickly  round, 
poor  Willy  could  scarcely  believe  that  it  was 
his  brother,  so  much  handsomer  did  he  look  in 
his  new  and  fine  clothes.  The  brothers  merely 
exchanged  glances,  for  Mrs.  Watkins  just  then 
spoke. 

"  I  have  had  3'ou  come  in  here,  Willy,  that 
you  might  see  how  well  your  brother  gets  on 
with  his  writing.  We  have  been  just  admiring 
the  great  improvement  already  visible.  Indeed, 
if  he  goes  on  as  life  has  begun,  he  will  be  able 
in  a  very  few  months  to  go  into  the  counting- 
house.  And  then  see  how  well  he  is  looking  ; 
you  would  scarcely  know  him,  1  believe." 

"  Indeed,  ma'am,"  said  Willy,  "  he's  not  the 
same  boy  at  all ;  I'm  sure  you  have  done  your 
own  share  for  him,  an3^how." 

"  Yes,  and  I  would  willingly  have  done  as 
much  for  you,  had  you  not  chosen  to  act  the 
fool." 

"I  only  obeyed   my  mother,  ma'am,"  re- 


/ifS 


62 


WILLY   BURKE  J     OR, 


and  so  must  all  rational  pwole  th,f  v^.' 

wrong  in  obeyino-  ],er  "     '^    ^   '   "*'  ^o"  '^'^^ 

that  it'^id  not  becle^^^*  T??*"  *°  '^""^ 
station  to  bandy  woKls^Mfh'^f,.^",  I®^  "»^ 
when  he  saw  tlmt  sirhlfl  T  *^^  ''"'^'  ^  '"'t 
he  ventured  to  savf!  S?^!"  T"^  ^'^  "  Pa"se, 

mother  w^^ndlTr^^^^^t 'S  7^*"'  "^^ 
com  n'  home  at  nil  thif     i         *  ^'^^^^  "«* 

".e  to  teU^oVthafs,   TbjS  ^^u^^rf 
"  Well  it-  Mri  w  f,  •  ■'^  ■"'■  ""  '>°"''  or  two." 

an'  indeed,  onfy"  I  was  s„  1.?"°"  "'"''■"'"'j; 
came  here,  I  wonlr  nTh,  u"^^'  *''<""  ^'"ce  I 
to  see  my  morher."       ''"'^'  ''"'"  ''"''O"'  goin' 

posM  ^s\;  r  Ss'it  *•""*  *""  p- 

Watkins,  between  w^!™  P  easing  to  Mrs. 
saw  a  s  o-nffican?  wT  ""■  '""^  ''"«*"'°^'  ""^ 
standing  timt  the  Seman  W'  °''*^^"''- 
rosnnied  his  studv  nf  f h  ?  "'^.  "PParently 
"  Well.  ZlwriL°I,.^^_".  ^?k  before  him. 
-  -—-.,,  ^>=™,    aaiu  liie  lady,  in  her 


The   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


63 


Ij,  ''  an* 

•s.  Wat- 
3  limits 
ng  that 
le  effect 
[  think, 
'Oil  did 

oipting 
•  know 
:q  and 
';   but 
pause, 
^^r,  my 
e   not 
3  sent 
could 
or  to- 
two." 
lough  ' 
my ; 
nee  I 
goin* 

pro- 
Mrs. 
d  he 
fvith- 
mtly 
him. 

her 


bland,  soft  accents,  "  I  know  not  how  5'ou  can 
go  this  evening,  or  even  to-morrow  evening ; 
3'oa  have  such  long  lessons  to  prepare,  thlit 
they  occup.y,  or  should  occupy,  j^our  whole 
evening.  Has  your  mother  any  particular 
object  in  sending  for  him,  Willy  ?  for,  if  not,  I 
fear  she  must  excuse  him  for  some  days  longer. 
He  is  surely  not  a  child,  that  she  should  fear 
to  have  him  out  of  her  sight  for  a  week  or 
two." 

"  Why,  then,"  said  Willy,  puzzled  to  know 
what  he  had  best  say,  "  why,  then,  ma'am,  I 
think  she  doejs  want  him  particularly.  I  heard 
her  say  in'  that  she  did. ' 

"And  might  I  ask,"  said  Mrs.  Watkins,  in 
her  very  sweetest  tones,  "  and  might  I  ask 
what  this  particular  purpose  is,  that  it  makes 
her  so  very  urgent  to  see  him  ?  " 

Willy  hesitated,  reddened,  and  looked  at  his 
brother  with  an  air  as  though  he  expected 
some  help  from  him  in  his  dilemma.  But 
Peter  only  said,  "  Why  don't  you  speak,  3'ou 
foolish  boy,  an'  not  staqd  there  like  a  fool  I 
Sure  it's  no  treason,  I  hope." 

"  Well,  then,  my  mother  was  sayin',  Peter, 
that  she  wants  to  have  you  go  to  your  duty, 
an'  that's  all ;  she's  afraid  you  might  neglect 
It. 

Mrs.  Watkins  affected  ignorance.  "  To  go 
to  his^  duty!  and  what  is  that,  pray?  Wbat 
duty  does  the  woman  mean  ?  " 

"  Why  to  go  to  his  confession,  ma'am  I " 


'/«  \y    Q 


v 


64 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


mi^t -"l-;7"  •  ^  '"""^  "^  undisguised  an,a..- 
ment ,  I  „  gom',  jXease  God,  some  day  »h 
week,  an-  iny  mother  thinks  he  ought  tol.  «i 
the  same  time."  ■""o"''  ">  go  ti. 

Here  Mrs.  Watkins  burst  into  a  lend  lai-  •-, 
-louder  than  she  usually  ind«i;r«d  n-  whUe 
even  her  grave  husbanoMettin.^  iHU  his  St 
Z-\^r'^^  "tter  a  deep,  loV  so- nd    'hat 

wh.«  th    1    f  •^"  *''®  Object,"  said  the  ladr, 
"hen  W.  ;.ad  m  some  decree  recovered  her 
composure  '.  lo  ,.ons  ...d  everything  else  must 
of  course,  gn  .  ,  « , ,     Oh  !  certaini;,  Pe^rm^ 
good   boy,  yo.-.  must  go  to  confession  •  and 
when  you  me  about  it,  you  will,  of  cours.   S 
the  pnest  of  that  grievous  sin  of  having  ^.one 
for  some  daya  to  a  school  from  which  PaiKst 
books  .ire  excluded.     Now  Mr  wXlnf  ?''  > 
added,  turning  to  that  g^Itlfm'an^'ts' "o't  thS 
ihe  darkest  invention  of  the  Evi    One -.onlv 

Willy  had  listened  to  this  exordium  with  nn 
small  indignation ;  and  when  it  was^ndudeT 

hf-l^'^r?  "  !.''P  ^"'^'''''^  his  brothe"rwhUe' 
his  cheek  glowed  and  his  eye  flashed. 

.      Are  yon  comin,'  Peter,"  he  said,  "or  ar« 

Alas  the  poison  was  already  eatine  into 
the  soul  of  the  elder  brother,  and  thoufh  to 
cheek,  too,  wore  a  crimson  flush  it  „o„  r„  'i 
Shame  _  not  resentment.    He'  was  an^^T    ' 


f'f. 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN    AMERICA. 


65 


his  brother,  too,  for  having  spoken  as  he  did. 
"  Just  tell  her  that  I'm  old  enough  to  mind  my 
own  affairs  —  an'  see  that  you  don't  come  here 
or  any  more  such  errands,  or  you'll  not  be 
thanlvful  to  yourself.  I'll  go  to  see  m  v  mother 
when  it  answers  me,  —  so  walk,  now  !" 

"  You  just  serve  him  right,  Peter,"  said 
Mrs.  Watkins,  extending  her  hand  to  the  boy, 
as  she  spoke,  with  a  smile  of  approbation  ;  "  I 
would  have  you  treat  your  mother  respectfully, 
of  course,  but  do  not  suffer  her  to  carry  your 
reason  captive.  Learn  to  think  for  yourself 
where  your  immortal  welfare  —  and  temporal, 
too  —  is  at  stake." 

"  So  you'll  not  come  —  an'  that's  the  mes- 
sage I'm  to  give  my  poor  mother  ?  "  said  Willy, 
still  addressing  his  brother.  "  Then  may  God 
look  down  on  you,  Peter  Burke,  this  blessed 
night !  I  wouldn't  be  in  your  coat,  fine  as  it 
IS,  for  all  the  money  Mr.  Watkins  has.  God 
be  with  you,  brother !  —  we  can  only  pray  for 
you,  an'  that  we'll  do."  The  tears  rushed  to 
his  eyes,  and  he  hastily  left  the  room  and  the 
house,  his  heart  swelling  with  mingled  sorrow 
and  indignation. 

It  was  a  cold,  rainy  evening,  and  the  lamps 
themselves  shed  but  a  dull,  dim  light  on  the 
cheerless  streets  ;  but  Willy  Burke  heeded  not 
the  falling  rain,  nor  the  cold,  nor  noticed  the 
bleak  aspect  of  the  city,  as  he  Dassed  alono* 
with  a  hurried  step  on  his  homeward  waj^ 
Never  had  his  young  heart  been  so  heavily 


fw 


\ 


66  WltLT  BCBKEJ    OB, 

irushed.  Never  had  he  felt  80  wretched 
Keen  y  susceptible  as  his  feelings  were,  this 
firs  instance  of  nnkindness  fx°om  his  onh 
brother  wrung  his  very  heart.  And  then  his 
mother -that  best  and  most  beloved  of  pa! 

J!mnt7       ^^'"'  ''"■  ^'^°^^"  "^ '"  ">«  most  con- 
temptuous manner,   and  to  reflect    that  his 

brother  her  eldest  born,  had  tacitly  encouraged 
and  of'the'f  ^\"'??'r  °/  *'"'*  ^"^"^^^O  P"«^t. 
professed  at  the  expense  of  all  worldly  hones 
and  interests.  Outraged  in  his  brotheriy  W 
in  his  fihal  respect  and  affection,  and  in  Ms 
^hg,o„s  principles,  the  noble-heaHed  boy /e It 
wCh  h'fl  •  '"'if^'""  f  grief  and  indignation 
thJ^?  K^  '"'"'^"^  '=°"''^  "<"  have  described, 
though  It  seemed  throbbing  i„  his  heart  and  in 

lallingrain,  nor  perceived  that  his  thin,  thread- 

unt.V\t''  ''as  saturated  through  and  through, 
until  his  mothei-'s  anxious  tenderness  clisl 
covered  the  fact  the  moment  he  entered  T, 

"  ^^y»  ^i%,  dear,  your  clothes  are  all  wet 

W^M wu*  ^?"  ^^  "'*^  «^^«  li<>«se,  poor,  fel- 

\V  tha   vn'  '^T'  ^'^  ^'  ^^'^^'  ^"'    '^»  know- 
urp^  ??,"^  ^^""^^'^^  ^^^^  SO  thin  an'  light?" 

"  T  /?  I  .V^T  *^^^  *^''*^'  »^other,"  said  Willy, 
I  didn't  think  about  the  rain  at  all."  ^ ' 

His  mother  had  bfiPn  fill  «^„r  u„„n , 

»»Wng  up  a  good-^e;"and  ltTa7^§1^ 


\ 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


67 


tl 


•\i 


fel- 


tone  in  which  her  son  spoke  that  drew  her  eyeMp 
to  his  face.  "  Whj^,  then,  God  bless  us,  Will;^^ 
darlin',  what's  the  matter  with  j'ou,  at  all? 
You  look  as  if  somethin'  had  happened  you. 
Did  3'ou  see  Peter  ?  But  then,  before  3'ou  tell 
me  anything  you  must  peel  off  every  tack,  till 
I  dry  them  here  at  the  fire.  An'  as  you  have 
no  other  clothes  to  put  on,  I  think  it's  better 
for  you  to  go  to  bed  till  they're  dry.  But  no," 
she  said,  suddenly  changing  her  riind,  "  I'll 
put  that  big-coat  o'  your  poor  father's  about 
you,  an'  you  can  sit  down  here  in  the  corner. 
Go  into  the  room  there,  dear,  an*  take  off  your 
things  —  the  coat's  hanging  up,  you  know,  at 
the  foot  of  the  bed — an'  come  out  when  you  have 
it  on.  I'll  have  a  bit  o'  supper  warm  for  you 
when  you  come  back."  The  boy  obeyed  in  si- 
lence, but  Ms  mother  heard  him  sigh  heavily 
when  he  was  alone.  '*  God  help  you,  poor 
child !  "  was  the  prajer  of  her  loving,  sorrowful 
heart,  as  she  went  on  with  the  preparation  of 
their  humble  meal. 

"  An'  now,  what  about  Peter,  acushla?"  said 
Mrs.  Burke,  when  her  son,  rolled  up  in  his  dead 
father's  over-coat,  took  his  place  at  the  little 
table,  a  chair  having  been  placed  for  him  by 
his  sisters,  in  the  warmest  corner. 

"  Indeed,  mother  dear !  I  don't  like  to  tell 
you  what  I  seen  an'  heard  since  I  left  you  ;  but 
there's  no  use  tryin'  to  hide  it,  for  the  sooner 
you  know  it,  it's  all  the  better."  The  poor 
mother  sat  down  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 


\ 


68 


^roe 


WILLY   BLUKE;    OB, 


Itlr.Ff^  k'""     '-'•'•"'^■''""g'   for    these    words 

leais.      BiK  wLci.  she  heard  all  — the  jibitiff 
sneers  who,. with  one  of  the  holiest  .acrament! 

undtifi,^      ^,  '''"'  ^^'"  'P'^'^'"'  °f-  ''«>•  son's 

than     il   V      -r'"™*"!^"'  •""°="'"^'  and,  worse 
than  all,  his  silence  whci.  uia  relioio,.  was  <,o 

basely  reviled -when  she  heard  alfths,(ove^ 

thonsh  her  son  told  her  nothing  of  the  con- 

temifuous  epithets   bestowed   on  herself  f  it 

seea„,d  as  though  a  fearful  weight  fell  suddenly 

aid  crushmgly  on  her  heart  ;  and,  sinking  baek 

iiand-s.     But  no  tear  came  to  her  relief,  for  her 
onds  she  swke  not  a  word 

hJ^^lF"""^  the  little  girls  were  alarmed  by 
her  silence,   and   all   three    gathered   fondly 
mound  her  beseeching  her  to  . peak  to  them 
"Sure,  mother  darlin' ! "  said  Willy,  twinW 

SSTZrf  ""■  "^'='^-  "  '"''  '^'«  "-^-o  baf 
well  to  let  Peter  come  to  ha  m  ;  an'  I'm  sure 

as -Ioodl°J°/^, 'r  >'°"^«'  y»»'l  finlhim 
as  good  an  dutuul  as  ever,  for  I  know  he  loves 
3 ou  in  his  heart,  po^r  fellow  !  an'  it's  '-nly  the 
.bad  ady.ce  that  made  him  act  .hat  way^' 

son  ^lrl7','-  ''^M  '"'"'^'''  ">'•  o»-n 'darlin' 
son,     cried  his  mother,  starti^ig-  to  i.or  feet  ■ 

"  thanks  be  to  God,  I  oar.  ill  'fee  him  ht^ne' 
for  I'm  sure  he'll  not  dis.  n  .  wh.n  T  ^ 
auii  come  with  me.    Please  the  Lord,  I'll  go  " 


THE   IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


69 


the  mornin*  early  an*  bring  him  home,  an*  if  i0r 
only  get  him  safe  out  of  it,  a  child  o'  mine  will 
never  sot  foot  in  the  same  house ;  I'd  sooner 
see  ye,  ay,  a  thousand  times  !  go  into  a  plao-ue- 
house  !  There  now,  Willy,  dear  !  sit  down  to 
your  supper  — no,  children  !  don't  ask  me,  for 
my  heart's  so  full  I  couldn't  eat  a  bit.  When 
ye're  done  your  supper,  we'll  get  our  prayers 
said,  an'  go  early  to  bed,  for  I'm  not  to  say 
very  well."  '' 


iK:  i 


«i 


11 


f!j| 


70 


WILLY  BUBKE  J    OB, 


I 


CHAPTEE   IV. 

IHE   BBOKEN  HEART. 

'J'ftE  long,  wakeftil  night  was  at  length 
passed,  and  Mrs.  Burke,  having  said  her 
mormng  prayers,  put  her  little  place  in  order 
and  gave  her  chiUIren  their  breakfast  thpn 
set  out  for  Mrs  Watkins's,  somewhat  sttnSh" 
ened  and  comforted  by  the  hope  that  nowf  at 
least,  she  would  have  her  sou  home  ,v"°h  her 
—  consoling  herself  with  th,  reflection  that  she 
was  about  to  snatch  him  from  the  fleryrrnace 

soul.     ^uU  of  these    hopeful  thoughts    she 
knocked  at  the  door,  and  on  being  fi^tted 
requested  to  see  her  son.     "  He's  gone  to  thfi 

he'io,  Ellen"/"'  "°"°*'^ '    ^'  *«"'  ->>-  ^^ 
"This  morning  — but  here's  the  mistress 

coming  to  speak  to  you."    The  servanTd  sap- 

peared  just  as  Mrs.  Watkins  advanced  in  her 

elegant  morning-dress. 
"  Good-morning,  Mrs.  Burke,"  said  the  lady, 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN    AMERICA. 


71 


with  lofty  conrlescension,  "  I  hope  I  see  you 
in  good  health." 

*'  Well,  no,  ma'am  —  many  thanks  for  your 
kind  inquiry  —  but  I'm  not  half  well  these 
times.  Indeed,  only  the  business  it  is,  I 
couldn't  stir  out  at  all  this  mornin',  so  early, 
for,  God  help  me  !  I'm  gettin*  so  feeble  that  I 
can  scarce  do  a  hand's  turn.  But  is  it  true, 
ma'am,  that  Peter's  not  here  this  mornin*?" 

"  Why,  yes,  Mrs.  Burke  ;  Mr.  Watkins  sent 
him  off  about  an  hour  ago,  on  an  errand  of 
trust  to  our  steward  in  the  country." 

"  An'  will  he  be  long  away,  Mrs.  Watkins  ?  " 
was  the  trembling  question  of  the  poor  mother, 
who  saw  in  this  timely  absence  but  another 
subterfuge  to  keep  possession  of  the  boy. 
"  Will  he  be  back  to-day,  ma'am?  " 

"  Really,  I  cannot  e&y,  it  may  be  that  the 
steward  may  find  work  for  him  for  a  few  days 
—  but  I  do  not  pretend  to  know." 

The  poor  disappointed  mother  raised  her 
dim  eyes  to  heaven,  and  murmured  in  an  under- 
tone, *'  May  God  have  mercy  on  me,  and  on 
this  poor,  thoughtless  boy  ! " 

"  Why  truly," — said  Mrs.  Watkins,  assuming 
an  air  of  offended  dignity,  —  "  why  truly,  you 
are  the  strangest  woman —  one  would  think 
you  had  heard  some  mournful  tidings,  you 
have  put  on  such  a  long  face.  What  hai-m,  I 
pray  you,  can  your  son  receive  from  going  fur 
a  lew  aaya  iv>  lae  couuiiy  t      oiucij  jsjlx.  it  «.«» 


72 

kins  is  at 


WILLT  BURKE  ;    OB, 

liberty  to  employ  him  as  his 


require."  *"  ^^  -"pi^^y  mm  as  his  affairs 

"  Och,  it  is'nt  that,  ma'sm  •  it  U'^f  f k  +  .  » 

I'd  be  the  first  to  advise  him  Vr.  ^,  ^^[V^'^^ws 
ter*s  orders   an'  Vr.  kJ   ?  ^^  ^^^3'  ^^^^  mas- 

to  doSutrto  yo':  a'n'hL'  "tV"^  "^"^"' 
Tm  afraid  mn'n^'^/T         ^^™»  —  b"t  somehow 

tnVth  Whnf^   ,  ™»  (^  ""^^^  ^«  well  tell  you  the 
tnith,)  that  he's  not  ffoin'  on  ««  Tvi  ^-  i      •  , 

reg*d  to  his  duty  to  God-^an'  thnt     f '  ""'^^ 
point,  after  all."  '^  ^^""^  ^  *^^  ^^in 

I  ^/rn^I^nr  ^^^^^    ;0h,  I  understand  I 

tto?Lio~^^  t^l^is&eSuTgof:,^ 
to  confession,  or  something  of  that  sort      T^,? 

same  to  the  nr,v«f  '      ^"^  ^®  ^^^  the 

yourself  on  thatTead"^Y^^^^^^^^     ^""^'^  *^^"^^«  * 
and  when  Peter  com;s^eshaWr^ 
fession  that  will  banish  all  four  fears'  "  T'^ 
so  saying,  she  coolly  opened  the  rW        ^^'^ 
nificant  hint  that  she  Sed  L^   .r  ^  ^'^'■ 
versation.  ^^  "^^  ^^^^her  con- 

Mrs.   Burke  drew  her    r^lri    oi,«    i     , 

jnore  paUi^  teS  ^ tlTnrS^-Jl'!' 
......vc  .  „ora.    She  might  have  pMaed'ont 


\ 


i'tr- 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


73 


s  affairs 

■'  that ! " 
>rcecl  to 
1  knows 
lis  mas- 
'  willin' 
)mehow 
yon  the 
h,  with 
le  main 

stand ! 
it    son 

going 
.    But 
o  very 
eturn. 
,  to  be 
ill  the 
rouble  * 
.  now, 
a.  con- 

Anrl 
a  sig- 

con- 

osely 
cold 
still 

:0  fl.r= 

i  out 


without  being  able  to  make  any  sort  of  reply, 
had  not  Mrs.  Waikins  said,  with  a  cold  smile : 

"  I  see  you  are  at  a  loss  for  words  to  express 
3'our  anger  ;  but  pray  do  not  curse  m\  heretic 
as  I  am.  Your  priest  might  readily  excuse 
the  sin,  and  even  consider  it  as  none  ;  but  God, 
my  good  woman,  will  not  view  the  matter  as 
3'our  father  confessor  does,  nor  forgive  you  so 
readily." 

The  poor  woman  felt  at  the  moment  a  chok- 
ing sensation  in  her  throat,  which  for  a  second 
or  two  she  could  not  overcome,  and  she  stood 
gasping  as  though  for  breath,  with  her  eyes 
fixed  on  the  lady.  The  latter,  somewhat 
alarmed,  extended  her  hand  as  though  to  sup- 
port her ;  but  at  the  moment  it  seemed  as 
though  strength  from  above  were  given  to  the 
sufferer  ;  and,  moving  a  pace  nearer  the  door, 
she  made  an  effort  to  say  :  "  No,  thank  you, 
ma'am,  I'm  better  now  —  it  was  only  a  little 
weakness  I  took.  I'm  goin*  now,  ma'am,  an' 
God  knows  whethci-  we'll  ever  meet  again  ;  but 
I  want  to  tell  you  before  I  go,  that  3'oy  know 
little  of  our  holy  religion,  or  you  wouldn't 
speak  of  it  as  you  do.  No,  Mrs.  Watkins,  I 
wasn't  thinkin'  of  cursin'  you,  or  any  one  else 
—  God  knows  I  wasn't !  —  Init  I  was  goin'  to 
pray  to  the  merciful  God  that  you  might  never 
have  as  sore  a  heart  as  I  have  this  day."  So 
saying,  she  moved  away,  and  slowly  descended 

•fl»r\    114-^f^.r^      i^     ■C.,^^4.     ^^    ^1 J .      1 • • 1  -  -  .1 

scarcely  able  to  support  herself.     Mrs.  Watt 


4Hii('t]f 


74 


WILLY  BURKE;    OR, 


f'Snre  but  scant,  /coSfd from  'th'  ""^H^t^^ 
»»•;  she  thousrht  of  tl,?.!L        .?'''''''' ^'''''•P 

ness  of  ho/pfr  r„"^  1"^°^  ^^"^^f  "•««'^- 
hmelf:  "How  unlike  a'lthit  I  hT'  T""'" 
«n(i  read  of  these  Roman  stsi  a  ft  "l,'"^*'''^ 
poor  woman  seems  to  h  '  ^'^^''  »"'  this 

jnering  of  Gosp^riiAt  1)"  V""'  ""'"  ^"'»- 
betfer  nature  predominated  ,^''  ■'"°'»<'°'  ''er 
to  call  the  poor  wn^w  '  ^"^  ^'"^  ^^s  about 
to  apologize  for  hlrunk^^r''"  'T'^'  «  order 
evil  spirit  of  pride  resumertl,'  *""'' '""« '  ^^^ 
<Joor  was  closed  after  thTl.      T'^^"^"'  *•>« 

-..dtheoppor.?;Sat:^^^^^^^ 

waf:i^lra"sc:rdi"e%tLr:-tr^^^ 

resisted,  ^omul\'^i^,^;^'Z%  7"'""^ 
Off,  and  thp  bpnrf ,.«    ,.'""6^^  "^e  baffled  or  put 

tw^nt^-tfou    hC^7rorhr°"°"^  °f  »e  C 

That  iveningX  poor  raothr)"  '''"'*'"'  ^^''^r- 
in  the  first  wild  narovvl      i"^'  "^  ''«'•  ^ed, 
while  her  throe  dLifdS"'L  "'^  "  high  fever 
>vith  grief  anS  terror  of  th    T""^'  ^'"P^Aed 

It  was^ortunaie  that  \v[llff„'',rfl''f  :'•'•*• 
of  his   mother's   illno«    'L^        "  ^'"^^  hours 

priest,  (not  that  he  feared  h^     ™"i.'^  "»"  the 
but  that^  he  knew  no  o[hl'liT*''«^«  <»<'«th, 


i-  'S.'^rSSVs     uu 


vM  Wiiuni  to 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN  IN  AMERICA. 


75 


call,)  and  towards  evening  the  venerable  clei*- 
gj-man  entered  the  room,  to  the  great  relief  of 
the  children. 

Although  Father  Fitzherbert  saw  at  a  glance 
that  the  delirious  state  of  the  patient  rendered 
spiritual  consolation  impossible,  yet  still  he 
lingered  b^'  the  bed,  not  wishing  to  deprive  the 
children  of  the  comfort  they  seemed  to  derive 
from  his  presence,  and,  moreover,  directing 
them  to  prepare  some  suitable  drink  and  med- 
icine for  their  mother,  himself  having  given 
Willy  the  money  to  make  the  necessary  pur- 
chases. While  he  sat  by  the  bed,  waiting  to 
see  the  effect  of  the  medicine  he  had  given,  he 
was  painfully  struck  by  the  incessant  wailing 
of  the  unconscious  sufferer,  as  even  amidst  the 
wanderings  of  delirium  she  called  ever  for  her 
absent  son,  and  bemoaned  his  loss.  Scarcely 
another  name  but  his  was  heard  in  her  ravings  ; 
and  the  good  priest  at  length  turned  to  Wiliy, 
where  he  stood  leaning  over  the  foot-rail  of  the 
bed„ 

"  Does  your  brother  know  of  his  mother's 
illness?"  The  boy  started  at  the  question, 
and  made  an  effort  to  reply,  but  the  words 
seemed  to  stick  in  his  throat,  and  a  scarlet 
flush  mounted  to  his  cheek.  Deeming  all  this 
emotion  but  the  natural  effect  of  violent  and 
deep  grief,  the  priest  turned  to  one  of  the  little 
girls  and  repeated  the  inquiry. 


76 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


hTm  ^Z^  "'"'  *«-  --  — rd  sent  to 

bov»'s'al/F^H''^  ^"7?  ^'°«  g°  "t  once,  my 
D03 ,     said  Father  Fitzhcrbert,  "  and  lot  \nZ 

It  may  be  too  late ;  and  from  the  constnni 
allusion  your  mother  makes  to  l>im   T  ?" 

-itee'i?u  ^rrtuTn'^?^^'''^^'  ""'^  ^  -^"  - 

for^thi^"^''  '''*  ''"  ^«  h^'Wtual  veneration 
for  the  clergy,  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  obev  and 
It  was  easy  enouo-h  to  spa  th^tit  ^ '  "" 
Tirno  „„.  iu-  ,  ="  *"  See  that  the  command 
was  anythwg  but  agreeable  to  him  This  th. 
grjest  saw,  and  saw  it  with  snrprbe  ;  for  Jfa 

K;rad;afi?.---^^^^^ 

w^l^:^Ss^:^^=ce^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

"Are  you  not  going,    Willy?"  a^tpri   fi 
priest,  mildlv.     Willv  hnri  Li     '  i       ^^^   ^^® 
fv^.«  fi        --^     ,.^  "^<^^  taken  clown  his  can 
irom  the  pin  where  it  n«nnii,-  u  ;        P 

stood  twir  ing  it  beTweealStt^'  iTelTed 
not  raise  his  eves  for  ho  r^u  4.u  1  .  "'^^i^^i 
glance  rested  upon  Wm  '^'*  "  ^^^^^^"^S 

"  Only  for  who  it  is  that  bids  me,  I  wouldn't 
go  a  step  after  him  »  h^  „„,-^   ^    '  "^  ,T«^"^«n  t 


i  sent  to 

ice,  my 
let  3-our 
her  day 
onstant 
am  per- 
•  mind, 
^  You 
will  re- 

Bration 
iy,  and 
nmand 
lis  the 
r  Mrs. 
3  days 
)n  the 
'linger 
s  own 
these 
lether 
hearfj 

I  the 
s  cap 
now 
larked 
reins: 

Idn't 
''for 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  77 

it's  little  he  deserves  it.  If  it  wasn't  for  him 
an  Ins  Mrs.  Watking,poor  mother  wouldn't  be 
bin  where  she  is,  for  they  broke  her  heart  be- 

togTherT'^''''    "'^  ^''^  J"''  ^''  *^^^  ^1^»« 
"  Child  !  "  asked  Father  Fitzherbert,  in  his 
sweet,  solemn   tones,    "child!    do    you  call 
yourself  a  Christian  -  a  Catholic  ?  »    ^ 
I'  I  do,  your  reverence,  to  be  sure  I  do  f  " 
Are  you  aware,  then,  that  as  such,  you  are 
bound  imperatively  bound,  to  go  on  this  er- 
rand  of  kindness  and  charity  ?    If  your  brother 
has  erred,  let  him  answer  to  God  for  his  fault  • 
It  is  not  for  you  to  inflict  upon  him  so  grievous 
a  punishment  as  this.     How  know  you  but 

uMHol    r^T""  '"^T  "^^^^^  here  awaits  him 
^ 111  effectually  open  his  eyes  to  the  truth?  and 

wou  d  you,  through  a  feeling  of  resentment, 

as  unkind  as  it  is  uncharitable,  withhold  from 

him  the  benefit  of  a  dying  mother's  blessing 

heir  i'''  '.fT-  ^"^  ^^Pnve  that  motfe 
herself  so  justly  dear  to  you,  of  the  comfort  of 
seemg  him  before  she  leaves  this  world  ?  For 
Lr^"?  ^at'  ^^""^  ''''''^^''^  '^  ^^'^^  ^^ow  not  far 

8inn''nf  *!  '  T  '^"'  ^'^"  '^'^"  ^^  ^'^  ^his  mis- 

Wo        ??  ^"^IPe^^^G'  and  God  will  bless  you 

'  thn?fi  ^"^^^^^f ,'  f^^  ^iniself  hath  assured 
as  that  the  merciful  '  shall  obtain  mercy  ' " 

Jf  7^u   ^-^^^^^'^Pt^d  by  the  deep,  repentant 

K     ""wM?  ^^-^  >  ^'^''^  ^^  ^'^'^  barely  concluded 
when  Willi'  wi-c:  ....  i.,-^  u^^--  i^J    ^ii^^iuucu, 

oT-«a  fx^;^?\  "~'"     "         ""^^"s  ov3iore  mm,  ins 

eyes  brimful  oi   e.^rs,  and  his  hands  clasped  in 


>.     s^ 


'ii 


'■< 


78 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


the  attitude  of  earnest  supplication     u  p^    . 

An>  ?M'n/ "?''  *^"'5':«  pardon  and  yonrs  sir- 

very  bU^ agaS"poor^t.^ff '"  T'  "■  ''"^ 
but  now  I'll   iust  r^o    t    .  *''*"'®  ''"J-s  past, 

hnn  know"aCt  ZtC'l'tZl:^ ^^  i?' 

training  which  had  ]r^i     .  f  .J°  *''^  excellent 
of  relilion  in  the  Cv/r'1  ">«  <^'^i°«  truths 

fostered  therein  the7™i'*";'°'^*''«  *'°J-'  ""d 
God.  ^''^''''^^*  remembrance  of 

co«:s- ttw^irdii^eUnr  '^"■"  *-« 

Mr^    \\rofi.,-.,         -^  «t^in  erect  ins  mossao-e  to 
mrs.    Watkins,    earnestly  implorino-   tw   i  ■ 
brother  might  be  sent  for.   '^AnMf  von^f    T 
liave  the  ffoodnesa  f/>  f«n        Iv         -^^^  ^^  ^"^y 
ue  gooaness  to  teU  me  the  way,  ma'am/' 


*  Forgive 
in  a  half- 
le  wrong, 

the  floor, 
the  God 
j1.  Ask 
'f  an  un- 

nrs,  sir ! 
d,  never 
'»  1  was 
3's  past, 
,  an'  let 
I'll   be 
time ! " 
?ply,  he 
e  priest 
1  which 
But  he 
t   their 
cellent 
truths 
r>  and 
ice  of 

m  the 
'ge  to 
It  his 
I  only 
/am," 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  79 

^^•If  ^^' '' ^?  ^"^y  a^'  °^ako  out  the  place  myself, 
with  God's  help ! "  f  J       » 

Mrs.  Watkins,  to  do  her  justice,  was  shocked 
to  hear  of  Mrs.  Burke's  alarming  illness  ;    and 
as  she  thought  of  her  emaciated  features  and 
woe-begone  looks  during  their  last  interview, 
and  remembered  the  deadly  faintness  which  had 
come  oyer  her,    the  inward   monitor  of   all 
mankind  spoke  out  fearfully  loud  within  her 
soul,  charging  her  with  the  unwarrantable  part 
she  had  acted  towards  the  poor  unprotected 
widow.     An  ashy  paleness  overspread  her  face, 
as  she  said,  m  tremulous  accents,  *^No  Willy 
jou  could  never  make  your  way  there'  alone  ;' 
but  go  home,  now,  and  to-morrow  mornino-,  bv 
the   first  light  of  day,  I  shall  send  for  your 
bi'other,  and  have  him  go  to  his  mother  at  once, 
too^late^''''^'  ^''^''  ^^"""^  to-night ;  it  is  not  yet 

"Thank  you,  ma  am,"  said  Willy,' with  a  low 
bow,  and  he  hastened  away,  being  anxious  to 
relieve  the  priest  from  his  watch  beside  the  sick- 
bed  of  his  mother.   On  entering  the  room,  he 
found  there  Mrs,  O'Grady,  the  landlady,  who 
had  kindly  volunteered  to  take  care  of  her  lodger 
during  her  illness.     The  good  woman  hacl  a 
grown-up  daughter,  who,  as  she  said  to  Father 
i^  itzherbert,  could  keep  house  for  her  in  her 
absence      ^'An'  so  in  the  name  o'God,  your  rev- 
erence, I'll  stay  an'  do  all  I  can  for  Mrs.  Burke  ; 
an  sorrv  I  am  this  r\t^^r  +/^  «««  v.^„  i„:_»  __  ^  J 


\ 


80 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


-indeed   we  don't  see  m^ny  nowadays  like 

nurse.     Immediately  after  Wi  11^11    ^"'l* 
witlidrew,  promisini  tr.7^   *^"lj  s  return,  lie 

*he  will  be  three  dav^i/     I  ""^  ''""*'  '"'« 

«ndergoingmtrchtye^'tafirirc;iTf°"' 
day  to  see  how  matters^;  .^oing  m    Thl  V2 

is  ^h'/-  ^'^'"''•'■'"  ''^  «dded  Tn^  I'oweAo^* 
"  the^trfthl/rf"  ,"«"*«»  ''""  dow .  ste  :• 
pa'strat"^:   he"^':^,"  -- tW^aeliriumhal' 

miVhf  fof^K  ^u.J.  i^-^,  ^  go  with  him  that  he 
"'""  '^"^^  ''"""^  '^^^^"-    ^^ing  obliged  to  wait 


lays  like 

>tef],  for 
ily  cast- 
o  find  a 
^"rn,  he 
the  fol- 
'Grady, 
e  recov- 
te  sure 
without 
H  ever^"- 
le  truth 
'  voice, 
stairs, 
um  has 
ent  to 
^s;  for 
this  fit 
ndshe 
essive 
wine, 
when 
p  her 
adoc- 

inued 
Fitz- 
n  the 
'e  re- 
Lt  he 
wait 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  81 

a  little  while  for  .  h.-  powders,  Willy  was  longer 
tt%l  nT/j,'  l^ad  expected  ;  ancl  onreSg 
the  top  of  the  stairs  at  his  return,  the  first 
sounds  that  greeted  his  ear  were  the  deep  sobs 
of  his  brother,  who  had  arrived  a  little  before 
and  was  now  kneeling  in  an  agony  of  sorrow 
and  remorse  beside  his  mothtr's^  bed  The 
tears  were  streaming  from  the  poor  lad's  eves 
and  the  hot  feverish  hand  of  his  mother  was 

SpT-f'^i'^  ^''  ^?^'*'  ""^^^  '^''  ^^d  anon 
he  kissed  it  with  passionate  fondness.     There 

were  none  present  but  the  two  little  girls,  who 

stood  silently  by,  looking  alternatel3^  at  S 

sick  mother  and  the  brother  whose  grief  they 

would  fain  have  lessened,  but  knew  not  how 

f  L'lf  r^"'^  ?"-"^'^  ^""^  P^^  ^^^^^  to  listen  to 
the  tender  yet  reproachful  words  which  fell  ever 

from  the  parched  lips  of  the  sufferer,  as   she 

seemed  to  imagine  herself  talking  to  him.    At 

times  she  spoke  of  his  father,  and  once  or  twite 

of  Willy,  but  ever  did  the  course  of  her  inco- 

herent  ramblings  recur  to  himself 

J-'J!'''''  ^l^^"*^  "  ^^^  ^^"1^  "murmur ;  "  poor 
child  !--och,  then,  Peter  dear!  if  you'd  oZ 
think  of  yourself,  think  of  your  souL  oam  Zu 
sure  what  about  the  poor  body  ?    Oh? K 

f^r^lr '-"^^'^^k'^J^^^  ''''y<^^  t-  b«  true  o 
}  our  religion  ?  ---  who's  that  says  he's  going  to 

and'  l[f/''^^}^'\^^^  ^ied  with  a  wild  stfre  ; 

suuu  a 


f;j 


VfUl 


thing,  -  didn't  I  bring  him  into  the  worfd 
6  ■" 


an' 


82 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


am  n  1 1  answerablf  to  God  for  hi=,  soul  ?  No, 
ma  am  !  It  wasn't  for  the  likes  o'  that  he  came 
here,  an'  I  have  that  much  trust  in  Go.'  that 
I'm  sure  he'd  neyer  let  a  child  o'lu  ne  fall   nto 

IZT'I^  ■  "  ^'•"'■^"  ''»<='^  exhausted,  aid  ?ay 
m     at/w"  '^T'  ™°«°°lf «'-  '^hile  Pete'r  sobbed 

hishearr-'  ^^  '"*''''  ^'' "*^'  °^ 

"No,  mother,  dear!  with  God's  helptliero's 
,  no  danger, -only  live,  _  only  open  your  eves 
and  tell  your  poor  Peter  that  yi„  Low  h  m 
and  that  you'll  forgive  him,  and  he'll  nem-  'tive 
you  reason  to  complain  of  him  again.    Oh ' 

1  do  at  all?     and  m  the  extremity  of  his  an- 
guish, he  started  to  his  feet  and  wrung  his  hands 

'•.-l.s  not  dead,  Peter!  — she's  only  in  a 
f '7  *  "  w-T''^'"'  *'''"  «•"=  '■''"s  into  after  a  fit ' " 
hfo  1 ''1,?^',"^  ^P."""^'  •»«  "nn?  '"8  »™s  around 

of  their  childish  days.    "  But  sure  there's  no  use 

he'd  tale  ^hJ"""  "'  *°  P^"y  *°  ^<"''  ^"'  -"^ybe 
he  d  take  pity  on  us,  an' spare  Aerlife  !    Come 

g  rls  passively  obeyed,  and  Peter  fell  again  on 
his  knees,  with  his  face  laid  on  the  covlrlU  of 
his  mother's  bed.  Few  and  simple  were  the 
words  they  uttered  ;  and  it  was  on  v  Willy  who 
said^aloud,  "O  Lord!  spare  us  our  mother^ 


il?  No, 
he  came 
ck\  that 
fall  into 
and  lay 
'  sobbed 
ness  of 

)  there's 
ur  ores, 
)w  him, 
'er  give 
.  bh! 
hat  will 
his  au- 
3  hands 

ly  in  a 
•afit!" 
around 
fection 
no  use 
[•!  — it 
maybe 
Come, 
e  little 
ain  on 
rlit  of 
re  the 
ly  who 
lother. 


THE   IRISH    ORPTIAX   IN    A.MEP      A.  83 

her  U-''.l'''''*^r;  ^^'  ''^'''^  ^^"^^^  ^^  '^^  without 
her  il  she  was  taken  away  from  us?" 

*'Ah    then,  God's  blessin'  be  ai)out  yn    for 
good  children  that  yo  are  ! "  cried  Mrs.  O'Grlidv 
who  just  then  entered,  and  kneeling,  she  joined 
m  their  prayer  for  a  moment.     "But  now  I 
must  see  to  your  mother  !  "  an       qinir   she  an 
proached  the  bed.  ^'    ^  ""^ 

When  Peter  had  talked  a  de  while  with 
his  brother  and  sisters,  he  asked  Mrs  O^Gr^^^^^^^ 
whether  she  thought  there  was  any  hope  that 
his  mother  would  soon  be  sensible  a-ain  Be- 
fore  i.e  good  woman  had  time  to  answer,  the 
patient  started  from  her  feverish  slumber,  and 

ntfe^i^xLr^Soir '-'  ''""''^  -^  --- 

Mr^O'rl'.i^^''"'   l^'^u^'  now,  Peter!"   said 
Ml  s  O  Grady,  as  she  hastened  to  administer  a 

An  1  m  afeard  it'll  be  some  time  before  she 
knows  any  one  —  God  help  her !  " 

"Then  I  needn't  be  waitin'   here,  Willy  " 

IniXj'  ^Tl""?  ^^  ^"'  ^'^^^'^'^  "  there's 
enough  of  ye  to  take  care  of  her,  an'  I  could 

dp  no  good.     Mrs.  Watkins  has  promised    o 

give  me  some  money    'or  my  mother,  an'  to 

her  i'rifr"  T^*^^"^«  '^^''^^  b«  good  for 

denl  li     •  "'.7  ^^^^  ^^^^^'  ^^'  ^^  h^^'^  a  great 
deal  to  do  in  the  office." 

iLskl^  w- n  ""*  T  T""  '}''^^  '^"^  ^^^  office,  Peter  ?  " 
^  -  —J  V  >  -V-  "c  uiu  noi;  at  aii  Like 


MICROCOPY   RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1^ 

m 

L£ 

li^^ 

1^ 

7.1 

13.2 

U) 

A 

iZ 

BiLiU 


12.5 

M 

1.8 


^    APPLIED  IIVHGE 


1653  East  Main  Street 

Rochester.  New  York        14609       USA 

(716)   482  -  0300  -  Phona 

(716)  288-5989  -Fox 


Inc 


64 


WILLY    BUllKE  ;     OR, 


this  new  move  of  his  brother ;  "  sure  vou  can't 
write  an3'  yet  for  them  ?  "  «  j  ou  can  t 

"  No,"  said  the  other,  with  some  little  em- 
barrassment, -but  I  can  tie  up  papers,  a^' 
keep  the  p  ace  in  order,  while  the  clerk^  are 
all  busy  writm      I'll  come  back  in  the  even! 

Sght."  ''  '"  ''''  ^^**^''  ^'^^  '^^3^  ^11 

I'  Ah,  then,  that  same  'ill  be  a  great  stretch 
C  kindness,"  retorted  Wiliy,  whose  angerwas 
again  rising ;  and  though  he  did  not  allSw  i^S 
burst  out,  jet  he  could  not  prevent  himself 
irom   speaking  tartly   and   testily.      "It's   a 
good  thing  that  mother's  not  dependin'  on  you 
anyway    or  I'm  afraid  she'd  come  off  badly! 
It  s  well  for  her  that  Father  Fitzherbert  knows 
where  she  lives,  an'  you  may  tell  Mrs.  Watkins 
that.     I  m  sure,  Peter  Burke,  if  you  were  as 
y^u  ought  to  be,  you'd   nev'er  darLn  Mrs! 
Watkins's  door,  after  the  way  she  has  treated 
my  poor  heart-broken  mother." 

"I  can't  wait  to  answer    you  now  "  waq 

that  I  just  think  as  much  about  my  mither  as 

jrJ\  ^7  .""  JT  *"■''  •' "    And^going  over 
to  the  bed,  he  took  up  his  mother's  hand  and 
kissed  It  fondly  ;  then,  without  another  word 
not  even  to  his  sisters,  he  hurried  from  the 

On  his  return,  Peter  found  Mrs.  Watkins 
anxiously  looking  out  for  him,  and  her  kind 
inquiries  for  hia  mnfho..  ««w.Ji^i._i «,        ; 


,.*«r" 


THK    ITIISII    ORPHAN    IX   AMERICA. 


85 


'ou  can't 

ttle  em- 
•ers,  an* 
erks  are 
le  even- 
stay  all 

stretch 
?er  was 
ow  it  to 
himself 
'It's   a 
on  3'ou, 
'  badl}^ 
;  knows 
i^atkins 
i^ere  as 
1  Mrs. 
treated 

,"  was 
Willy, 
ther  as 
g  over 
id  and 
word, 
>m  the 

atkins 
r  kind 
fiened 


his  heart,  so  that  he 


as  the  best  and  truest  of?Ss*°  aT"  '''' 
ous  illusion,  Which  the  M^^rif  knet  tvf  to 

dhtC   '""i'"''  "'^""'^^  ^'^  ^^  left  to  the^r  u, 
self   ZlZ  °'"^  proposed  that  she  her- 

» S  t.i  i  *""  '■''''"y  anxious,"  said  she 
aisease.  The  things  which  I  told  vou  I  wmiM 
send  are  all  in  readiness,  so  that  we  can Tl  e 
mTkrnf  for  i"  *'^V^?'""=-    Oo,row, To  Mr! 

to  school  ""^  ''''^'''  ^'  "'">"°'  ^P'"-^  >•""  to  go 
^  In  the  course  of  the  afteruoonl  Father  Fitz. 

fou^cfstuftr  •"'''^''  ^^'■'-  1^-ke    whom  hJ 

v°"h  tand^f  fh™"''  ""'^  ^""^""y  ^«^k,  not- 
withstanding the  rage  of  the  fever.  From 
Willy  he  received  an  account  of  Petei's  vit?t^ 

Suet  ot  thtxvf^  V''^^'  «  ^^^  ^holo 

Burke  AmnvuT^""'"  ^'  '^^^'^"^  the 
,  .  .'"""'J  •  '  There  is  here,"  said  he  witl.in 
himself,   "a  deen-laid   nin„   I  "'"''"e, within 

thoughtless  boy  •  mav^  Cod  •  °  v""'  **"'" 
defeat  their  d°k.yiJ'^lJ''J''.  .'^"''y' 

lamb  from  strayi^-^VonS  thelw , "  ""  ToZ 


86 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


brother  is  to  come  back  here  in  the  evening,  is 
he  not? "  he  said  aloud  to  Willy.  "  Yes,  3'our 
reverence!  he  said  he'd  come  an'  staj^ 'over- 
night, if  mother  wasn't  better. " 

"Then  I  must  see  and  speak  with  him." 
Father  Fitzherbert,  as  he  spoke,  approached 
the  bed,  and  taking  up  the  hand  that  lay  on 
the  coverlit,  he  found  that  the  pulse  was  much 
less  violent  than  it  had  been  even  half  an  hour 
before.  "Mrs.  O'Grady, "  he  said  to  the 
nurse,  *Sthe  fever  is  already  subsiding,  so  you 
will  require  to  pay  the  utmost  attention,  so  as 
to  lose  no  time  in  giving  some  of  that  strength- 
ening cordial  on  the  first  appearance  of  re- 
turning consciousness.  Has  the  doctor  been 
here  to-day  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  reverence  ;  he  called  about  noon, 
and  he  thinks  that  towards  evening  she  maj^ 
come  to  herself  a  little.  He  just  told  me  what 
your  reverence  does  —  that  I  have  need  to  look 
sharp." 

The  twilight  was  deepening  around;  and 
Willy,  with  Ally  and  Biddy,  had  drawn  near 
the  hearth,  whereon  a  log  or  two  of  wood  was 
blazing.  Mrs.  O'Grady  and  one  of  her  daugh- 
ters were  also  there,  and  the  good  woman  was 
relating  in  a  low  voice  some  old  reminiscence 
of  her  native  land.  They  all  believed  that  the 
sick  woman  slept,  for  during  the  last  hour  or 
two  she  had  lain  in  a  heavy  slumber,  when 
suddenly  her  voice  was  heard,  low  and  faint 
but  yet  distinct,  calling  "  Willy  I  "    There  was 


THE    AiUSH    ORP:i.*.N    IN   AMERICA. 


87 


iio  other  light  in  the  room  than  that  of  the  fire  ; 
but  when  the  boy,  starting  to  his  feet,  reached 
the  bed  with  ahnost  a  single  step,  he  saw  that 
his  mother's  eyes  were  open,  and  that  she  as 
trying  to  raise  herself  on  her  elbow.  Stooping 
over  her,  he  held  her  up,  saying  tenderly, 
*'  Mother,  dear !  do  you  know  me?  " 

"  Ah,  then,  I  do,  Willy,  thanks  be  to  God  ! 
But  is  it  sleenin'  I  was  this  long  time,  or  what  ? 
for  I  had  such  terrible  dreams."  She  spoke 
almost  in  a  whisper ;  but  her  words  brought 
tears  of  joy  to  Willy's  eyes,  and  bending  down, 
he  kissed  her.  "  Sure  it  was  ravin'  3''oa  were, 
all  the  time„  But,  thanks  be  to  God,  moUier, 
dear  !  that  you're  gettin'  sensible  again." 

By  this  time  the  little  girls  had  reached  the 
bed-side,  and,  wild  with  joy,  would  have  kissed 
their  mother  over  and  over  again ;  but  I\Irs. 
O'Grady  quickly  interposed,  and  gently  drew 
them  awa^',  asking,  "  Do  you  want  to  kill  your 
mother  out  an'  out?  An'  you  too,  Willy! 
come  away  from  there,  good  boy  !  you  can  do 
your  mother  no  good ;  so  leave  her  to  me  till 
I  give  her  what  I  was  bid." 

"Only  let  me  ask  him  one  question,  Mrs. 
O'Grady,  -i*  then  he'll  go.  Was  Peter  here  at 
all,  Willy,  since  I  took  bad?" 

"  lie  was,  mother  ;  he  was  here  a  good  while 
this  mornin',  an'  he  said  he'd  come  back  in  the 
evenin'  to  see  how  you'd  be;  an'  indeed, 
mother,  dear,  he  was  in  black  trouble  when  he 
seen  you  so  low." 


i 


t 


V 


88 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


.  Well,  God  be  praised  for  that  same,  dear » 
there's  a  chance  for  him  still ; "  and  she  raised 
her  eyes  to  heaven  in  silent  thanksgivino-, 
while  her  kind  nurse  put  the  wine  to  her 
parched  lips.  Feeling  much  refreshed,  even 
by  the  few  spoonfuls  given  her,  she  would  have 
expressed  her  gratitude  to  Mrs.  O'Grady,  but 
that  good  woman  would  not  permit  her.  "  jN'o, 
no,  dear,  don't  say  a  word  about  it ;  sure  it's 
only  my  duty  I'm  doin' ;  be  quiet,  now,  Mrs. 
Burke,  d^ar,  until  you  gather  a  little  strength, 
an  then  you  may  talk  as  much  as  you  like. 
Light  a  candle  there,  children  !  " 

"Well,  but,  Mrs.  O'Grady,"  said  the  sick 
woman,  "  I  want  to  tell  you   about   a   thino- 
that's  troublin'  me  very  much.     There's  some 
clothes  there  in  the  tub,  belongin'  to  a  lady 
down  town,  an'  she  paid  me  beforehand  for 
doin'  them,  too  — God  bless  her  kind  heart! 
Now,  if  you'd  be  so  good  as  to  get  one  o'  the 
girls  to  wash  an'  iron  them,  so  that  Willy  could 
take  them  home,  it  'id  be  a  great  relief  to  my 
miud,  an'  I'll  pay  you,  please  God,  what  I  o-ot 
myself  for  doin'  them ;  that's  half  a  dollar.'' 
_    "Ah,  then,  if  that's  all  that's  troublin'  you, 
Mrs.  Burke,  dear !  j-ou  may  make  your  mind 
easy ;  for  my  Anne   there   did  them  up   an' 
ironed  them  this  mornin',  an'  now  they're  aired 
an'  all  ready  to  send  home,  but  I  didn't  know 
where  to  send  them.     Willy  can  go  with  them 
as  soon  as  you  like;  an'  as  to  the  pavm^nf 
aroon  I  I'll  not  take  a  penny.     So  doa't^let  me 


V 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


89 


!       »J 


hear  a  word  more  about  it.  If  God  spares  joxi 
life  an'  health,  you'll  do  as  much  for  me  when 
I  am  in  a  pinch.'* 

^'  Well,  i&od  reward  j'ou,  for  I'm  sure  I  never 
can,  that's  all  I  can  say  1 "  was  Mrs.  Burke's 
reply  ;  and  her  faint,  tremulous  tones  alarmed 
her  nurse  so  much  that  she  would  not  suffer  her 
to  say  another  word. 


I 


■ujUffj 


90 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


CHAPTER  V. 
A  mother's  death-bed. 

yV  BOUT  half  an  hour  had  passed  ;  Wilh-was 

^  goiie  home  with  the  basket  of  clothes,  and 
his  mother  had  fallen  into  a  light  slumber,  when 
she  was  suddenly  awoke  by  a  low  whispering 
at  the  door  ;  and,  starting,  she  said,  "  Isn't  that 
Peter's  voice  I  hear  ?    Are  3'ou  there,  Peter  ?  " 

*'I  am  then,  mother,  dear!"  cried  Peter, 
darting  forward  ;  and  throwing  his  arms  round 
his  mother's  neck,  he  burst  into  tears,  while 
the  fond  parent  clasped  him  to  her  heart  with 
a  sort  of  convulsive  strength. 

"  An'  you'll  not  leave  me  again,  my  son ! 
1 11  not  trouble  yjou  long,  an'  I'd  wish  to  have 
ye  all  around  me  at  the  last.  You'll  not  leave 
me,  Peter?" 

"No,  mother  darlin',  I'll  stay  with  you  as 
long  as  you  wish  ;  "  and,  as  Peter  spoke,  the  big 
tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks,  attestino-  the 
depth  and  sincerity  of  his  feelings.  ° 

"  AVell,  now,  isn't  this  pretty^vork  !  "  cried 
Mrs.  O'Grady,  as  she  taw  the  sick  woman  fall 

^^^i..,^x:^i  ^„  tiic  wcu.        -  Lret    OUC  01   IHQ 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN    AMERICA. 


91 


waj-,  Peter  Burke  !  don't  3'ou  see  3'oiir  mother's 
not  fible  to  speak  or  to  move?  Go  an'  see 
who's  that  comin'  up  the  stairs  ;  I  think  it's  a 
stranger." 

"It's  Mrs.  TVatkins,  mother,"  said  Peter, 
who,  having  gone  to  the  door,  as  directed,  re- 
turned ushering  in  the  lady,  who  had  judged 
it  better  to  let  Peter  come  alone,  and  then 
follow  herself.  A  servant  also  entered  the 
room,  carr3'ing  a  basket,  which  his  mistress 
ordered  him  to  set  down,  and  then  withdraw. 

There  was  but  little  satisfaction  in  the  smile 
with  which  Mrs.  Burke  met  the  pitying  look 
of  her  visitor ;  and  when  the  latter  kindl}^  in- 
quired how  she  found  herself,  she  coldl}'  an- 
swered, "  A  little  better,  thank  God,  and  you 
for  askin',  ma'am  !  " 

The  truth  was,  that  poor  Mrs.  Burke  felt 
sadly  disappointed  by  this  visit,  for  it  happened 
at  a  moment  when  she  was  endeavoring  to 
gather  sufficient  strength  to  give  a  solemn 
admonition  to  her  son  Peter,  touching  the 
affairs  of  his  soul. 

Mrs.  O'Grady  placed  a  chair  for  the  lady 
near  the  bed,  but  failed  not,  as  she  did  so,  to 
express  her  opinion  that  the  patient  should  be 
left  undisturbed.  "For,"  said  she,  "she's 
not  able  to  talk,  an'  no  one  ought  to  speak  to 
her  while  she's  so  weak." 

Before  an}^  one  had  replied,  Will3^*s  voice 

Tirna  hnnv/1  on  tho  et.nirfa    nnllinor  niit  for  n  licrht  ! 

and  in  a  moment  he  made  his  appearance  with 


92 


WILLY   BUUKE  ;     OR, 


J  ather  Fitzherbert.  "  Here's  Father  Fitzher- 
bert  mother,  dear!"  he  said,  and  the  effect 
was  hke  magic.  The  poor  woman's  eyes  were 
suddenly  lit  up  with  the  brightest  joy,  — the 
very  announcement  seemed  to  give  her  streno-th 
for  she  started  almost  to  a  sitting  posture,  and 
remamed  resting  on  her  elbow. 

"Thanks  be  to  the  Lord  !  "  was  her  fervent 
exclamation,  as  the  priest  approached  the  bed, 
hat  1  see  your  reverence  again.  I  know 
I  m  not  long  for  this  world,  an'  I  was  beginnin' 
to  be  aft-aid  that  you  wouldn't  be  here  in  time 
^ut  sur«  I  might  have  known  that  my  Heavenly 
1^  ather  wouldn't  take  me  away  unprepared  — 
oh,  glory,  honor,  an'  praise  be  to  his  holy  name. 
It  s  little  I  deserve  his  mercy  I  "  ■ 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  that  you  have  recovered 
your  senses  Mrs.  Burke,"  said  the  priest,  as, 
bowing  to  Mrs.  Watkins,  he  took  up  the  hand 
of  the  patient;  ''but  your  pulse  indicates 
ex^eme  weakness,  and  I  would  advise  you  to 
keep  as  quiet  as  possible,  for  a  few  hours, 
until  your  strength  is  somewhat  recruited  " 

^  '1 T!?!^  x1*'  ^''^''''  I'everence,  I'll  not  be  con- 
tented till  I  have  got  the  rites  of  the  church. 
Only  hear  my  confession,  sir,  an'  give  me  the 
Blessed  Sacrament,  an'  then  I'll  be  as  quiet  as 
can  be,— there's  somethin'  tellin'  me  that  my 
end  is  near,  an'  I'm  sure  your  reverence  would 
not  hide  it  from  me." 

"Certainly   not,"   replied   Father    Fitzher- 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA. 


93 


ister  of  religion,  whose  duty  it  is  to  prepare 
souls  for  leaving  this  world.  You  arc  not  in 
error,  my  child ;  —  the  opinion  of  your  med- 
ical attendant  agrees  with  my  own,  and  we 
both  think  that  you  have  not  many  hours  to 
live." 

Here  the  children,  not  even  excepting  Peter, 
burst    into   a  passion   of   grief,   while    their 
mother  turned  upon  them  a  glance  of  unutter- 
able tenderness,  where  they  stood  grouped  to- 
gether near  the  head  of  the  bed.     "  AVhisht, 
children  !  "  she  said,  after  a  moment's  silence, 
during  which  she  was  evidently  offering  her- 
self and  them  to  God  ;  "  whisht,  my  darlins, 
there's  no  use  in  ye  cryin*  that  way  ;  if  it  was 
God's  will  I'd  ratiier  be  left  here  a  little  longer, 
till  ye'd  be  all  able  to  do  for  yourselves,  aii'  to 
go  on  in  the  way  of  salvation  through  all  the 
tnals  of  this  world ;  but  since  that's  not  or- 
ciained  for  us,  I'll  give  ye  all  up  to  the  pro- 
tection of  your  Heavenly  Father,  an'  he'll  do 
better    for  you  than  I  could.      An'   Father 
Fitzherbert,  too,  I'm  sure  he'll  watch  over  you, 
for  God's  sake,  poor  lonesome  creatures  that 
ye'll  be  when  I'm  gone.     So  don't  fret,  children, 
dear !  an*  now  all  go  away  for  a  little  while, 
till  I  try  to  prepare  myself  for  eternity  ;  —  do, 
now,   there's   good   childrei       Willy,  do   3'ou 
take  your  poor  little  sisters  down  stairs  for  a 
little   while,  an'  you,  Peter,  get  a  chair  for 
Mrs.   Watkins    near  the   fire   abroad  in  the 
kitchen,  if  she  wishes  to 


ay 


longer. 


l_J 


94 


WILLY    liUUKK  ;     OR, 


Mrs.  Watkins  did  Avish  to  sta}-,  hopincr  that 
she  mi:;!it  induce  Poter  to  ^ro  ]y^ick  with  her, 
as  she  no^y  more  tlian  ever  f?arcd  tliat  if  she 
loft  him  alone  to  the  infliionce  of  such  a  scone, 
she  mij^ht  g'wQ  him  up  as  lost.     Ere  yet  she 
liad  quitted  the  room,  she  heard  Father  Fitzher- 
berttell  Mrs.Burko  that  AVilly  had  called  to 
a[)prise  him  of  her  having  recovered  her  senses, 
as  otlierwise  he  might  not  have  come  so  soon.' 
"Ay,  it's  just  like  him,"  snid  the  mother, 
in  a  tone  of  deep  feeling,  "  it's  himself  that 
was   always   thoughtful,  an'  I  hope   God    'ill 
give  liim  grace  to  watch  over  his  sisters.     If 
your  reverence  was  talkin*  to  Father  JMaloncy 
—  God's  blessin'  he  with  him  !  —  he'd  tell  you 
that  my  Willy  had  something   good  in  iiim 
from  his  infancy  ;  an'  the  last  time  he  seen  him, 
that  was  the  night  before  he  Icfb  home,  when 
the  priest  was  goin*  away,  after  givin'  us  all 
his  blessin',  didn't  Willy,  an'  him  only  a  little 
fellow  at  the  time,  run  after  him  to  the  door, 
till  he  blessed  hira  over  again  ?  " 

An  involuntary  smile  curled  the  lip  of  Mrs. 
Watkins  as  she  overheard  this  simple  effusion  ; 
and,  as  Peter  closed  the  door  behind  them,  she 
looked  into  his  face  with  a  strange  expression, 
half  ironical,  half  comic,  as  though  she  would 
have  said:  "Can  3'ou  be  influenced  by  such 
silly  notions  as  these  ?  What  a  foolish  woman 
your  mother  u  !  "  And  Peter  blushed  to  his  very 
temples,  though  he  said  nothing,  but  silently 
placed  a  chair  for  the  Inrlv  in  tha  nhirr^r^r^xT.r^r^^ 


TiiK  iniar  orphan  in  America. 


95 


nor.  Mrs.  O'Crrnfly  had  fi^onn  down  stair?;  for 
a  fow  minutes,  al'tor  Willy  n:id  tlio  little  girls, 
so  Ihiit  they  AVero  left  alone  to;^ether. 

During  the  short  time  that  the  room-door 
was  closed,  Mrs.  Watkins  tried  every  art  of 
persuasion  to  induce  Peter  to  go  back  witli 
her,  representing  to  liim  that  there  was  no 
apparent  danger  of  his  mother's  death,  at 
least  that  night,  and  lie  could  return  next  day 
as  early  as  he  chose.  "  And  what  good  will  it 
do  either  her  or  you  for  you  to  remain  over- 
night? I  should  th'nk  there  are  far  too  many 
around  her,  and  that  ;'ho  would  be  much  better 
if  left  alone  with  the  nurse,  who  seems,  by-the- 
by,  a  very  sensible  and  experienced  person. 
And  then  Mr.  Watkins  will  not  think  of  com- 
ing to  fetch  me,  naturally  expecting  that 
you  will  be  back  with  me,  so  that  if  3'ou 
do  not  come,  I  shall  really  be  forced  to  go 
home  alone,  and  at  a  most  unseasonable  hour.*' 

"No,  no,  ma'am!"  said  Peter,  quickly. 
"  There's  no  need  of  yon  goin'  home  by  your- 
self, for  sure  I  can  go  an'  leave  you  at  home 
an'  then  come  back.  But  as  for  stayin'  away 
all  night  from  my  poor  mother,  an'  it  may  be 
the  last  night  we'd  have  her,  —  oh,  no,  ma'am  ! 
I  wouldn't  take  a  mint  o'  money  an'  do  it.  God 
forbid  that  I'd  be  so  hard-hearted  or  unnatural !  '* 
and  the  poor  fellow's  tears  burst  forth  anew. 

At  this  moment,  when  Mrs.  Watkins  was 
just  about  to  renew  her  attack,  the  inner  door 
opened,  and  Father  Fitzherbert  came  out,  ask- 


-^  WILLY  burke;   or, 

ing  for  Mrs.  O'Grady,  Peter  instantly  ran  to 
call  her,  and  then  would  have  passed  into  the 
room  after  the  priest,  who  had  left  the  door 
open ;  but  Mrs.  Watkins,  moving  after  him,  re- 
quested to  know  whether  she  might  not  see 
Mrs.  Burke  for  a  moment  before  she  left. 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,  ma*am ! "  was  the  faint 

response  from  the  bed  ;  and  the  lady  sat  down 

again,  following  with  her  scrutinizing  eyes  the 

motions  of  the  priest,  who  still  wore  his  stole. 

"P€|rhaps,   madam,"   said   Father  Fitzher- 

bert,  addressing  the  Kdy  whom  he  knew  only 

by  Mrs.  Burke's   account,  *' perhaps  you  do 

not  know  that  I'm   about  to  administer  the 

Holy  Eucharist  to  Mrs.  Burke,  and  3^ou  may 

probably  choose  to  withdraw,  for  the  present. 

It  is  usual  for  all  the  Catholics  in  the  house  to 

be  present,  if  possible,  when  the  sacrament  is 

given  to  the  dying,  but  it  would  be  as  well  for 

those  who  do  not  believe  as  we  do,  to  retire." 

Mrs.  Watkins  bowed  her  acquiescence,  and 
resumed  her  place  near  the  kitchen-fire,  though 
internally  inveighing  against  the  priest,  for 
she  was  curious  to  see  how  these  Popish  cere- 
monies were  carried  on.  But  Father  Fitzher- 
bert  knew  well  the  irreverent  curiosity  which 
would  alone  have  been  gratfied,  and  the  total 
^want  of  respect  for  the  Blessed  Sacrament, 
which,  in  the  event  of  her  remaining  in  the 
room,  would  have  scandalized  the  children, 
and  therefore  politely  hinted  at  the  propriety 
of  her  retiiing  for  a  while.     Willy  and  his  sis- 


and 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN   IV   AMERICA.  97 

the' O-rroT'  '?'''"''*eywere  followed  by 

infoPhfr  ^  '■f^'^.""''  y°™g-  A"  passed 
into  the  inner  chamber,  and  knelt,  as  they  en- 
tered, m  respectful  silence.  Mrs  Burke  iTv 
calm  and  tranquil,  with  her  eyes  closed,  for 

tuh'th  tT  rr  "P  '"  '^^<^'  communion 
with  that  God  who  was  about  to  take  up  his 

abode  within  her  soul.     Her  thin,  worn  hands 

were  clasped  together  outside  the  bed-clothes  • 

and,  were  it  not  for  the  motion  of  her  lips  she 

might  have  been  believed  dead.     But  not  so  • 

for  when   the    priest,   approaching  with  the 

"L^i  *?°\"  'T''''  "^"^  -^Onu,  Dei," 
Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  beho  d  him  who 
taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world ' "  she 
opened  her  eyes  and  raised  her  hands  in  fer! 
^ont  thanksgiving,  while  a  smile  of  exquisite 
joy  crossed  her  wan  features.  "-^-qu'sue 

"  Lord,  I  am  not  worthy  that  thou  shouldst 
enter  under  myroof ;  say  but  the  word,  and  my 

mj  poor  miserable  soul  clean  an'  pure  to  re- 
ceive theel"  and  while  these  heaSelt  eiac- 
ulations  still  hovered  on  her  lips,  she  sImv 
raised  Iier  head,  and  received  he  Bread  of 
ang^s-the    Bread   that   giveth  life  to  the    . 

Sinking  back  on  her  bed,  her  eves  a<rain 

—  ■ "-  —  *■»*        .tie       «»;        B 


i    «    iVJ'U.U 


A     ,.!_ 


be  to  thee,  oh  God,  my  God  1  what  more  than 


J 


\ 


98 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


this  can  you  give  me  ?    I  have  all  now,  praise 
be  to  3'our  hoi}'  name  !  " 

She  then  received  the  sacrament  of  Extreme 
L notion;  and  this  last  sacred  rite  beino- ter- 
minated, the  priest  beckoned  all  to  leave  the 
room,  saying  in  a  low  voice,  as  he  himself  re- 
tired, ''We  shall  leave  you  alone  for  a  little 
while,  my  dear  child,  so  that  you  may,  undis- 
turbed, offer  yourself  up  to  God,  and  thank 
him  for  his  adorable  goodness  to  you  and  all 
mankind." 

The'  door  that  communicated  with  the 
kitchen  had  been  left  open,  so  that  Mrs.  Wat- 
kms,  from  the  place  where  she  sat,  had  a  full 
view  of  the  scene  passing  within ;  and  now, 
when  the  priest  took  a  seat  in  the  kitchen,  she 
said  to  him  rather  abmptly  : 

"What  a  strange  religion  is  yours,  sir! 
Who  could  ever  dream  that  a  huge  system  of 
superstition  and  meaningless  ceremony  like  the 
Church  of  Rome  should  have  power  to  bestow 
such  consolation  at  the  final  moment  ?  Surely 
that  woman  seems  to  meet  death  with  iov 
rather  than  terror."  ^ ' 

The  priest  smiled.  "  It  is  even  so,  mv  good 
lady,  — that  faithful  soul  has  no  fear  of  death. 
And  were  you  better  acquainted  with  our 
My  Church,  you,  too,  would  find  her  the 
mother  of  all  consolation,— being,  as  she  is,  the 
divme  spouse  of  Christ,  and  by  Him  chosen  to 
transmit  to  his  children  the  joy  whichpasseth  all 

- ---:-T"cr:"T'''''^f       *'u.v,  Mi^jf,  V  Vjriiiuy,   yoU   iiau 


\ 


she 


THE  IRISl.   vRPHAK  IK  AMEBICA.  99 

better  stay  in  the  room  with  Mrs.  Burlce  and 
ri:  wm  Vr"''"r'^"l  ?'  ^'"«  occasTonallj^ 
enter  "  ""'^  ''''^"  "'"'  ^'^^^^^  «  to 

v.,v^  conversation  was  then  renewed  in  a  low 
voice,  and  went  on  uninterruptedly  till  Ifa 

t^,at  M^.T'I^'"'  Wcarance  and  announced 
that  Mrs.  Burke  wanted  to  see  his  reverence 
for  a  moment.  When  the  priest  entered  ?he 
room  he  took  each  of  the  little  girls  W  the 

Sinf  LTitf  "^'^'"^/""°'^^^''  ^^"'^  Mrs! 
vvatkms  muttered,  as  she  moved  after  them  • 
"  Strange  that  I  have  been  talking  so  Lg\vUh 
a  Komish  priest,  without  havino^  been  able  t« 
convince  him  of  error  in  a  single  jToint     Eeall 

thing  they  believe  and  teach  in  so  fkir  a  point 
ot  view,  notwithstanding  the  intrinsic  m^aUce' 
and  the  exceeding  foulness  of  their  doctrine^' 

be  J  bv^^tTeln!"^  '''r^'l  '^  ^'  ''■•«-  °<"'r  the 

man  .''1  ^''V      ?"'"*  ^'''^''^'^  <""  "'«  «ick  wo- 
man ,  her  eyes,  too,  were  dimmer,  and  deeoer 

sunken  m  their  sockets ;  and  when  she  spoke 

otTwhich'fr/"''  "°^'"S  ^o^-'-l  «  her 
Wh-  '"^^'^    ""  g'^'^-    Besides,   her 

breathing  was  accompanied  by  that  rattlin"  in 

he  thro.at  called  by  the  Irish  « the  death  Tat- 

dread7ummote"if '  ''*'  "'^^  '"'P™='<="  '^'  '"^^ 

chiUrLrlrltin^Ze-/---^^  --'  the 
your  oai.e-before"f  W  'thrS.  '%teZ?, 


\ 


100 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


are,  thank  God,  able  to  earn  their  own  livin* 
an  even  poor  Ally  an'  Biddy  can  do  little  turns 
for  any  good  Christian  that  'ill  keep  them  for 
God  s  sake.     I  don't  care,  Father  Fitzherbert, 
how  hard  any  o'  them  has  to  work,  for  nj 
Christian  'ill  put  them  to  what's  beyond  their 
strength,  so  as  they're  with  them  that  'ill  give 
them  good  example,  an'  bring  them  up  in  the 
love  an  fear  o'God.     Oh,  your  reverence,  if  I 
could  only  know  that  they'd  all  be  under  the 
care  of,  good,  pious  Catholics,  an'  that  thev'd 
persevere  to  the  end  of  their  lives  in  the  old 
laith  that  all  their  generations  before  them 
lived  and  died  in  !  " 

"  I  ?n\  tfuly  rejoiced,  my  dear  child,"  said 
the  priest,  '*  that  it  is  in  my  power  to  make 
your  mind  at  ease  on  that  head.     I  have  been 
speaking  with  a  worthy  woman  who  carries  on 
the  straw-bonnet  business  pretty  extensivelv, 
and  she  has  voluntarily  proposed  to  take  youi- 
dear  little  girls  and  bring  them  up  to  her  own 
business ;  while  at  the  same  time  she  will  see 
that  their  education  —  and  above  all  their  re- 
ligious education  —  be  not  neglected.     She  has 
no  children  of  her  own,  and  willingly  under- 
takes to  bring  up  your  girls,  for  the  pure  love 
of  God,  being  herself  a  true  and  sincere  Chris- 
tian.    As  to  Willy,  I  have  arranged  with   a 
very  respectable  house  to  receive  him  as  mes- 
senger in  their  store  ;  and  if  he  is  found  trusts 
worthy,  (as  I  hope  he  will,)  they  have  promised 
to  promote  mm.     Meanwhile  he  is  to  attend 


\ 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IS   AMERxCA.  101 

an  evening-school,  and  he  can  have  at  all  times 
free  access  to  my  library,  so  as  to  employ  his 
leisure  hours  in  useful  readino-  »  ^ 

Mrs.  Burke  raised  her  hands  and   eyes  to 
heaven.     Her  heart  was  too  full  for  verbal  ut- 

fn?r'i  ^^iu^'^^Z''  ^^^^^  ^^"^^  «h^  f«»»^l  voice 
to  thank  Father  Fitzherbert  for  his  trulv  pater- 

nal  care  of  her  children.  -  Sure  vour  rL^rence 
has  done  for  them  what  I  couldn't  do,--al!)oor 
lone  woman  like  me,  that  nobody  here  knew: 
but  Peter  sir,  what  are  we  goin'  to  do  with 
re^'pf?''  ^^  ^  '^^^^  *^<^"ble  to  me  than  all  the 

"My  dear  Mrs  Burke,"  said  Mrs.  Watkins, 
with  her  soft,  insmuating  voice,  -  you  have  no 
n^ed  to  trouble  yourself  about  Peter ;  Mr. 
Watkms   is  fully  determined  to  provide  for 

*'  Mr.  Watkins  an'  you  are  both  very  oood, 
ma  am,  an'  may  God  reward  you !  but  I  hope 
it  s  no  offence  to  tell  you  that  I  can't  let  Peter 
ZoP^  f«^y  children,  stay  with  any  but  CathI 
olics.  I  couldn't  die  m  peace,  Mrs.  Watkins, 
indeed  I  couldn't,  if  I  thought  any  o'  these 
poor  orphans  that  Pm  leavin'  'id  be  in  the  way 
of  losm'  their  faith.  What  do  you  say,  Peter? 
\Vouldn't   you    rather    be   among    Catholics, 

^^Z7^''^T\J''''   ^""^    ^'^^^^^^    Fitzherbert 
!!Tm'  i!f  ^f!^fi'  :j^*^^r^    *^-  ^-eping    boy. 

Goci^iimiihry  J^"  ""  '^^  ^ '^  "'^^  ^'"^'  '^''^'' 


->^ 


\ 


102 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


In  that  case,  Peter,"  said  the  priest,  "I 
know  that  I  can  get  you  into  the  same  house 
with  3'our  brother.  Your  salary  may  be  small 
at  tirst,  but  you  will  have  many  counter-bal- 
ancing advantages." 

"  Well,  sir,  as  you  an'  mother  wishes  it,  I'll 
agree,  though  I'm  sorry  to  leave  Mr.  Watkins's 

""     i^ulrf  ^^  "^^^^  *''^^*^^^  as  if  I  was  their 
ownl3hild." 

4   'l^^^»^''^  ^®  praieed,  — I  can  die   con- 
^"  ^^L  ^"urn™"red  the  dying  woman  ;  "  but, 

uwi^r."^^'':  ^  '''^"*  *^  sP^ak  *  word  to  you." 
"What  IS  It,  Mrs.  Burke?"  said  her  kind 
nurse ;  and  her  tears  fell  fast  as  she  bent  over 
Her  patient,  so  as  to  catch  her  low  tones. 

"  There's  a  little  tobacco-box  of  poor  Andv's 
in  one  corner  of  that  big  chest  within.  Willy 
can  get  it  for  you,  an'  you'll  get  a  sovereign  in 
It ;  It  s  the  last  of  the  money  we  brought  from 
home,  an'  I  always  kept  it  fbr  a  pinch ;  that'll 
pay  you  what  rent  I  owe  you.  I  think  it's  four 
dollars,  isn't  it?" 

Burke!  cried  her  generous  landlady,  with 
characteristic  vehemence;  "that  sovereign 
will  bury  you  decently,  an'  I  can  do  without 
It.  JNo,  no,  I  m  a  poor  woman,  but  while  God 
si^ares  my  husband  and  son  their  health,  I  can 
get  along  without  the  little  penny  you  owed 
me.  So  I  pray  God  to  cancel  the  debt,  as  I 
do  from  my  heart." 

Overpowered  by  the  excess  of  her  gratitude, 


>» 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN  AMERICA.  103 

the  dying  woman  could  only  grasp  the  friendly 
hand  held  out  to  her,  and  raise  her  failing  eyes 
to  heaven,  invoking  a  blessing  on  her  benefac- 
tress. vShe  spoke  not  again  for  several  mo- 
ments, during  which  the  rattling  in  her  throat 
wag  fearfully  increasing.  Raising  her  feeble 
hand,  she  made  a  sign  for  her  children  to  ap- 
proach; the  priest  placed  them  all  on  *heir 
knees  beside  the  bed,  and  by  a  mighty  effort 
the  dying  mother  found  voice  to  bless  them. 

*'Be  good  children,"  she  added;  "be  good 
men  an'  women,  an'  ever  an'  always  fear  God 
more  than  men;  listen  to  the  voice  of  his 
Church ;  live  an'  die  good  Catholics,  an'  W(;ll 
meet  again  in  glory.  There,  don't  cry  that 
way,  it's  no  use  ;  but  pray  for  me.  God  bless 
ye  all ! "  She  signed  to  Father  Fitzherbert  to 
put  the  crucifix  in  her  right  hand ;  he  did  so ; 
and,  with  a  smile  of  ineffable  joy,  the  pure  soul, 
purified  by  all  manner  of  earthly  suffering, 
well  and  cheerfully  borne,  passed  away.  The 
eyes  were  still  upraised,  and  the  lips  iii  the  act 
of  praising  God,  when  lip  and  eye  were  fixed 
in  death. 

"May  that  God  whom  j-ou  so  faithftilly 
served  receive  your  liberated  soul  into  the 
mansions  of  rest  I  "  said  the  priest,  solemnly ; 
and  by  a  gesture  full  of  grave  dignity  he  si- 
lenced the  lamentations  of  the  orphans,  now 
orphans  in  reality ;  then  kneeling,  he  recited 
aloud  the  praj  ers  for  the  dead,  in  which  all 
present,  joined,  with  the  exception  of  Mrs. 


IJif 

ml'  \ 

i 

1 

i 

i 

'1 

J 

\'t 


104 


WILLY  BURKE  ;     OR, 


Watkins.  The  good  lady  was  just  beginnin<» 
to  wax  impatient,  when  a  foot  was  heard  on 
the  staircase,  and  her  husband  made  his  ap- 
pearance, to  her  very  great  satisfaction.  No 
notice  was  taken  of  either  by  those  wlio,  ab- 
Borbed  in  devotion,  were  supplicating  the  Most 
High  for  mercy  on  behalf  of  the  parted  soul ; 
so  without  a  word  being  spoken,  Mrs.  Watkins 
beckoned  her  husband  from  the  room,  and  in 
an  instant  tliey  were  seated  in  their  carriage 

Death    is  ever  awful ;    but  how  fearfully 
drear  it  becomes  when  it  deprives  a  whole  fam- 
ily of  a  tender  parent  ~  an  only  parent.    When 
wrenching  away  that  last  gi'eat  bond  of  unity. 
It  leaves  the  little  community  without  a  head 
without  a  centre,  lonely  and  detached  units  in 
the  great  human  assembly.    It  was  a  melan- 
choly sight  to  see  the  four  children  of  Mrs 
Burke  clinging  around  the  bed,  whereon  lay 
their  dead  mother,  vainly  calling  on  her  who 
could  no  longer  hear,  and  beseeching  her  to 
speak  but  a  word;    vain,  vain  their  cries. 
When  was  "  the  dull,  cold  €ar  of  death  "  ever 
reached  or  opened  by  human  voice  ?    For  some 
time  none  of  them  could  think  of  anything  •  the 
one  pervading  image  filled  the  mind  of  each  — 
their  mother  was  dead,  and  they  were  now  or- 
.phans  in  very  deed.  After  a  little  while,  Willy 
raised  his  head  from  the  side  of  the  bed  where  it 
had  been  resting,  and  looking  around  on  his 
brother  and  sisters,  he  said,  with  an  attempt  at 


vuLnness 


It  was  bad  enough  when  poor 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  105 

father  died  an'  was  thrown  into  the  sea,  but 
then  we  didn't  half  know  our  loss,  an'  besides, 
we  had  our  mother  still,  so  wo  weren't  so  badly 
oir ;  hut  now,"  —  here  his  forced  composure  de- 
serted him  ;  for  one  glance  at  the  dead  face 
of  his  mother  had  subdued  his  little  self-control, 
and  when  the  others  burst  out  again  into  tears 
and  lamentations,  himself  wept  and  sobbed  as 
loudly  as  either  of  his  little  sisters.     Hitherto 
J^atherl^itzherbert  had  remained  kneelin<r  at 
the  foot  of  the  bed  in  silent  prayer,  deeming  it 
best  to  et  the  grief  of  the  children  exhaust  its 
first  violence ;  but  now  he  arose,  and  comincr 
calml}  forward  took  each  by  the  hand  in  si^ 
lence  and  led  them  from  the  room,  without  the 
slightest  opposition  on  their  part.    When  once 
in  the  kitchen,  he  said  to  them  : 

"  You  must  now  stay  out  of  the  room,  mv 
dear  children,  while  Mrs.  O'Grady  performs 
the  necessary  duties  for  the  dead.  I  would 
advise  you  to  go  down  stairs  for  a  little 
while. 

Mrs.  O'Grady,  who  had  been  kneeling  just 
within  the  room-door,  now  came  forward  and 
announced  that  she  would  go  for  a  "  nei<rhbor 
woman "  to  help  her  to  wash  and  lay  out  the 
corpse,  and  insisted  that  the  children  should  o-o 
down  stairs,  as  the  priest  had  proposed.  Their 
obedience  to  the  clergy  was  habitual ;  and  they, 
therefore,  went  down  with  Mrs.  O'Grady,  while 
-  ..v^^i  o.  itx.iici uvii  rumumea  lo  Close  tiie mouth 
and  eyes  of  the  deceased,  and  offer  up  yet 


■',1'  r.  '    "' 


106 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


another  prayer  for  her  eternal  repose.  Wlien 
the  women  entered,  and  prepared  to  commence 
their  sad  task,  he  withdrew,  promising  to  re- 
turn next  morning  to  see  the  children. 

Ihe  corpse  was  at  length  laid  out  in  decent 
order,  attired  m  the  brown  habit  of  the  con- 
fraternity of  our  Lady,  (which  habit  had  been 
long  ready  for  the  occasion,  as  is  usual  with 
the  members  of  that  society,)  with  a  cross  of 
brown  ribbon  laid  outside  the  clothes  on  her 
bosom  and  the  little  wooden  crucifix,  the  »ame 
^hich  had  fixed  the  dying  gaze  of  her  husband, 
suspended  on  the  wall  at  her  head.    Then  the 
children  were  again  admitted,  and  several  of 
the  neighbors  coming  in,  Mrs.  O'Grady  pro- 
posed that   first  of  all  they  should  say  the 
Litany  for  the   Dead.     This  pious  duty  per- 
formed,  the  remainder  of  the  night  passed  away 
in  conversation,  which,  borrowing  its  tone  from 
the  occasion,  was  of  a  serious  and  grave  char- 
acter.     The  two  little  girls  had  been  prevailed 
upon  to  go  to  bed  about  midnight,  and  much 
pains  were  taken  to  console  the  two  youno- 
brothers ;  many  a  kind  advice  was  given  them" 
and  more  than  one  friendly  offer  of  assistance! 
-Both  were  too  much  absorbed  in  their  ffrief  to 
pay  any  great  attention  to  these  well-mean^ 
.  attempts  at  consolation,  and  they  were  sensibly 
relieved  when  the  light  of  morning  called  the 
greater  number  of  those  present  to  their  homes 
to  commence  the  labors  of  the  day.     It  was 

only  from  Father  Fif9;ho,.K«^»« ±-— i     .  .7 

-e^-t-x  Kj-ui  u  c  |/iuiiust;u  visit 


1 

« 

i 
1 
I 
I 

t 

a 
li 
f( 

!'( 
t( 

u: 
ui 
oi 


V 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  107 

that    they  expected  or  received   consolation, 
and  his  entrance  gave  them  a  gleam  of  com- 
fort, which   the    mild  and    tender  and  pious 
counsels  he  gave  them  tended  considerablv  to 
increase      He  it  was  who  represented,  in  clear 
and  forcible  terms,  to  their  sorrowing  minds, 
that  as  far  as  their  mother  was  herself  coni 
cerneci,  they  had  only  reason  to  rejoice  in  her 
death ;  as  death  to  her  was  but  a  transition 
from  toil  and  suffering,  and  all  the  privations 
ot  poverty,  to  the  happy  eternity  where  the 
saints  reign  with  God.     Then  he  made  them 
understand  that  such  being  the  case,  their  own 
seJhsh  sorrow  must  not  be  indulged.     "You 

!!7frn '?  ^'f""'^  ^''^"'"  ^""'^  ^^'  "  ^^'^ich  must 
be  fulfilled  :  duties  to  God,  to  yourselves,  and 
to  society  ;  and  to  these  you  miTst  at  once  apply 
yourselves,  casting  off  that  vain  and  idle  de- 
spondency, which,  however  natural  it  may  be 
m  Its  origin,  would  undoubtedly  unfit  you  for 
active  and  energetic  application  to  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  duties  to  which  I  have  referred  " 

Thus  did  he  wisely  and  judiciously  lead  the 
brothers  to  a  more  salutary  way  of  thinkino- 
and  prepare  them  for  the  devious  journey  o'f 
life  on  which  they  might  now  be  said  to  enter 
lor  the  first  time.  They  still  wept  and  sor- 
rowed for  the  mother  who  had  loved  them  so 
tenderly,  but  it  was  no  longer  with  that  wild 
ungovernable  grief  which  had  at  first  swallowed 

UD  evprv  rnf ion nl  iVl^o     «r,rl i-_i-.i      71    , 

-      — i-..*,t4  ivivw,  «,na  wiuuiuuuu  au  noDe 
of  comfort.  * 


0r--^ 


>c 


WII.Lr    BUIIKE 


OR, 


The  day  of  burial  raiuo,  and  Father  Fitz- 

erbert  offered  up  the  Holy  Sacrince  earl  v  h. 

the  mornm.   t|,„t  God  might  receive  the  so.    of 

us  departed  8e,vant.     It  was  a  touohl-ig  spoc- 

—  iollown.g  to  the  grave  the  remains  of  their 
onI.y  parent,  eaeh  holding  by  the  hand  one  of 
thoir  young  sisters.     The  brothers  restraine.1 
the   violence  of  their  sorrow  as  they  move 
along  after  the   hearse,   but  the  little  giils 
sobbed  and  cried   all   the   wav,  though  Zt 
tmual ly  reminded  by  their  brothers  that  tTey 
should  endeavor  to  be  quiet  while  passing  a  Z 
the  s.reets.     Besides  the O'Gradys,  the?e  werf 
only  a  few  others  who  followed  the  liearseTfor 
te  deceased  had  but  few  acquaintances,  and 
she  was  poor,  very  poor,  aye,  and  far  away  from 
the  place  where  she  and  hers  were  known  and 

house,  with  none  by  to  mourn  her  but  the 
desolate  orphans  who  stood  cowering  together 
at  the  head  of  the  grave.  o<=''"ej: 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA. 


100 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  DROTIIERS  m  TIIEIK  NEW  SITUATION. 

place,  and  Fath^-  Sorb  rt  "in"  hi':  Sf^ 
kindness,  advised  tlie  two  boys  toTo  InZf 
urday  to  the  liouse  of  Mr  Talhr,^  ^fh  *" 

emi)Ioyor  "It  will  J-  ['  ^""""'f  f'eir  new 
1      ,   i  it  will  divert  your  minrlo  "  o„!i 

ginning  of  the  week.     ^  myse  f  ,vil    „  ''''" 

duct  vniii-  i;tfi„     •  1    ^'"JSS"  will  now  eon- 

arrange  wiH/Zto'te"*  '"''  """''"''  *° 
"No,    your    reverence,"    said    Willv     h,-« 

take  so™;  ,o.:,"4tes  '^f' m^J'^orS^: 
thats  there  in  the  cliest  abroad.  W  L„T.  !',.! 
.uuxuai  uiuke  something  of  them,"  in'part  Tf 


110 


X 


WILLY  burkk;    or, 


■  said   she  l.ad  canili^r?^t,      ?' '  ^'''^"^°  «'>« 
We're  aoin'  ?«  •  !,    ""^  ^'^''t  altoffether. 

below  stairs;  wi  wlldn'f  J- 1'''/'''''"  '"••  " 
any  of  the  clothes  sttnles  It  w i'^'  "'"' 
™y  mother's  littIe%lebtXe^u'   It'll  "?  •'"^'' 

■  good  to  look  at  them  now  an'  til  "  ^°  "^ 
have  nothino-  else  to  nnt T  •  ?" '  ™''<'  «'e 
that's  gone      Mvn^°  '     .^^  '"  """"^  "f  them 

thaf  'ic?r  of  ui  TLTX-  ?or'f'  ""^i".? " 
were  all  worn  nut  „>  ^^ ,'  "'^  ''*''  «Iothes 
shawl  an'  SL  a„'  ,r'''  ^'  '''•'  ^""'-^  '>er 
that  she  used  t.  1  """f  °*'''""  ""'«  things 
rest;''  he  stoDoed  T?, '  ^f"''^'*  "P  ^"1'    & 

emotion,  ;hiS&!ant;hi''uX°"f  Y  '"^ 
into  teajs.  The  o-oL]  "  •  *  .  ^""'^  ■""'«* 
eyes  bore  witness^nf   if '^'*''''  "^""g"'  '"s  own 

it  time  tol  ufrsto  '  t^'n''-  ^^'' '■''*''^"^''' 
(iesired  them  all  tnn^l        'i"^'  *"''  therelbre 

They  dese:Sle1  tl7sS„'T-/'f  ''P"^"^«- 
children  turning  s^At--^*  '''5"'°'''  *''^ 
oofc  of  the  noVSed^d"  eUinf '  wl"'^' 
they  had  reached  the  foot  of  f  h!  if  ^'  }^'^ 
a  short  passage  led  toMr,  O^P  ,""?'  ''''*™ 
mcnts,  Willv  asWl   h  :  ^  ^^^^b'  s  apart- 

might  not  sten  in  f  P'''"'*  'vhether  they 
Father  pllSert  I  °  f  "■''  '?»'•?«■«"."  an^ 
whole  four  hastene  n  ^  "°''?'?,'^  "^^""t'  t'^e 
Wmself  walked  slow  y'S  t"'  *\^  P"^^' 
Just  in  time  to  wS  ,^e 'L  *,'!!^- .??.. .''''? 


\ 


wouldn't 
'aiise  she 
together, 
iest  here, 
om  for  it 
xart  with 
s  to  pay 
11  do  us 
sure  we 
of  them 
inything 
clothes 
a^'e  her 
'  things 
ith    the 
5  b}'  his 
s  burst 
fiis  own 
:hought 
lerefore 
•arture. 
ow,  the 
a  last 
When 
where 
apart- 
r  they 
and 
It,  the 
priest 
5   was 
heard 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IX   AMERICA.  Hi 

poor  mother.  ^°     of  their 

own  breast  when  I'm  dead '"  °"  ™^ 

O  Grady,  with  genuine  fervor  ° '"  an'  if,  ^^ 
je  all  from  hurt  or  harm  f™  .-►..?'  ."*'** 
ti^at'«  the  .juiet,  manneri>  ■cMi:nf T^;' 


il 


112 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


ought  to  have  luck  !  Go  now,  poor  things,  for 
I  see  his  reverence  is  waitin'  for  vou,  an'  I'm 
real  sorry  that  there's  none  o'  my  ones  within 
But  sure  ye'll  come  often  to  see  us.  Do  an' 
God  bless  ye  !  for  ye  may  be  sure  ye'll  never 
come  without  bein' welcome."  ^^  "«^er 

A  few  minutes'  walk  brought  Father  Fitz. 

nZZJiV'''  ^  r^.^^''^^^  to  the  house  of 
the  good  lady  who  had  agreed  to  take  the  little 
gills ;  and  she  received  them  with  so  kind  a 
welcome,  that  notwithstanding  their  natural 
iTfhft'^''^  l^  soriw  they  felt  on  parting 

"oonnon  ![  ^''^^'''''  ^^''y  y^^^  ^PP^^-^red  quite 
econciled  to  stay  with   Mrs.  Williams,  only 

them  to  the  door,  that  they  would  come  soon 
to  see  them.  The  boys,  in  their  part,  we^e 
much  affected,  and  the  eyes  of  both  were  filled 
\\ith  tears,  just  as  they  emerged  from  the 
narrow  street  in  which  Mrs.  Williams'^shop 
was  sauated.  The  priest,  who  walked  immi' 
c  ately  before  them,  was  accosted  by  a  cheer- 
ful voice  from  the  opposite  trottoir,  and  a  ffen- 
teman  instantly  crossed  the  street.  Father 
^itzherbert  stopped,  and  said,  with  a  smile! 

lalbot,  as  It  saves  me  the  necessitv  of  ^oino- 
to  your  house,  and  I  am  rather  limited  in  time 
this  forenoon,  having  promised  to  be  at  the 
Bishop's  at  half.past  eleven.  These  are  e 
boys  of  whom  I  told  you." 
"Oh.    indAPH  f  »'     ««i^         _ 


xaiooi. 


ruK  iKisn  onPiuN  ix  ameb.ca.       ns 

glanced  at  the  brothers  •  « in  f  l,„f 
you   had   better  leave  'th^m     .  '  *'*'''*'  ^  '^'''°'' 
The  business  on  ,4ioh  I  w.       °"''  *"  ""«• 
mot  vou  can  be  oni  .  "^  S°'"S  "hf"  I 

i»g-  it  will  be  ustns\v^irf ''"'"'"•  *'"•'  ">«'■»- 
of  sight,  as  I  needl,o  M,  ^i""  *°  ''''"P  °»' 
1.0  is  against  priestT  n'^Sf  °  Y?-'L"'''='=.'' 
this,  Father  Fitzherbort?  "  T  , , ^,"*  ''°'^  '^ 
"  these  lads  aoilea,  n=  J  'f  "*'«'  Vnckly ; 
weeping."         '^'^''.'"  "«  t'^o»gh  tliey  had  been 

is  noliling'^u  JSit'L"iT  ^r  ^"•'  '^"'  "'-t 
from  their  orXn  «&ff°   thej  have  just  parted 

a«  yon  can  wil    wf„e''r''  *''1 1^""^  ''»«. 
,    of  their  grievousTosf  "  '  '""'''"^  '^'  "•««°"-y 

a  >^ndj''to°ne*d::h^'fr''\*'^«  '^-'■>-  '» 

thatheinight    Sue!  ^  t  f  ^'^  •>'>» 

wherenpon    Father    FLhe^et    h    ''".''*"''■' 
turned   awav  in    „„  '"^neroeit    bowed    and 

-ying  wi^a  Zn:  ''K^o'T r V  «^«' 

you  will  do  what  you  can  for  th^       'r,''"' *'"" 

n-y  bovs,  I  shall  see  you  veTv  soo^'     '^°'"^-''^'' 
God's  help ! "  •=  J  "u  i  ery  soon  again,  with 

ciue^'stS  TLX:L^'1-J;'''"  P"'  -"ous 

their  respective  chSacters^yh  "'''"  °"' 
slow  in  nerceiViiK,  th„t  I,  '       "  ""  ^as  »ot 

l^ad  many  mentaf  !dtn  .     ^'"""^"^  '^'""^^ 
little    indebted  t   "^'!l"ffl^^'  i'^l^ough  but 

they  arrived  at  h[spi;^r7b„Z3fLt! 


i 

ml 


ii 


I 


\ 


114 


WILLI-  bckke;   or, 


ourthJf  '*''°f^'^'  '-^■''"^'''  =o  that  even  with- 
out  the  earnest  recommemlation  of  theZil^t 

less"  ™uthr%'i°r  't "'""'''  f-  *>-«"-- 

o^einX:  To" t'  '"-^^  ^'^"^^'^  -Wer„°o.  o?- 
cities,  the  greatest   amount  of  the  wholesale 
tra,le.    H^^i^g  ^j^^^  .^^^^        furtLr  re~ 
of  the  place,  without  eliciting  more  thnn   „ 
passing  glance  from  the  numerous  sXw'?J^ed 

yard  thrpw  »    •  ??   v°.°"*  «"  "  «'°«^  "arrow 

Sir;'tf 't-""'*  *■•'"  ^^^ '-'«""  h 

mercnant,   with    his   Bnnff-colored   and  hio-h 
iremity   ot    the    long    sham   rhin      tt/ 
seated  on  a  high  offlce3,  td"  bent  with 
'"^^^^f^^'^i'^on  over  his  desk.  ""'* 

Blac^"'  ^  ^:^Z^  -  »^  to 

ttr"  "irh''""'  ''"^■'^'"3  ^-f  t>^e  ^"%  In  • 

she  ma.'   ir-'^'/  ?'[°°S  Probability  tha 
sne  maj    get  m  to-night,  as  the  win/l   h.a 
veered  conairlprahi-  »!««-  t  ..     .      .  T'""'  "^s 
'"-^v  «=i"wc  X  went  out. 


tl 


THE   miSH   ORPH^^  ,^  ^^^^^^^  ^^^ 


AyJ^  dere's  alway 


sure 


a  chance,  to  b 

pishiy^ndTithout  rtSinTw' 'rr""*  — l- 
a'wajs   look-in'  out  forlho     '"'"'' '  "J'°"be 

l>«t  fl  yo««eedaf  ode/Sl°':'',°"''™' 

«  keen  gLT^^^Xmy^T^^'P  ""''  ''-^«'' 
standing  next  him   h  ? '  ^  "  ''^''<^  to   be 

two,  he  laid  «Lr2toTS^*'j?'  ''''''  ^«e 
dere  be  two  '  "       ^        """'     ^a*  <le  deevil ' 

these  boyslookfng'outfof  *?.?«»■•«  ^^o  of 
we  can  employ  both  w  ^'tuations,  and  as 
them  for  ^onl  'nsJeS'  ""'};?  •.^"''  •^'"''"ght 
for  high  waffes  -_,•„  f  ;  ^«'ther  will  look 
"ill  suffice  for  ;ll'"  ^TKr'y  '"°''«^''te  pay 
l^nowiedgeof  busIS"'  "'^^'  '"^'^  "<>  ^-^a^ 

be  Jons,  tell  me  It  "h  "f- ^  '    '^""t  good  dey 

boU,  .J-  Tm^^  Kt:^l„?^°*'  ."they 
I--.,  ui3mg  anxious  to  learn  ^w"""*  '''''  ^^'"^ 
to  «ake  themselves  exceSSgi;':^,  ~^^^^^^^ 


'ifi  'I 


-.;ii 


II 


i 


116 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


In     i 

i 


'■      i 


"Oh,  jiy!  orpliaiis!     Vere  von  fin.i  „n  *7 
was  tlu-owu  an  orphan  on  the  widl     orM      t' 

-Wd;  dese  boys  de  on?;::rS;;d"Z' ^ - 

\  ell !   you  Oder  boy  —  vat  you  can  ^r,  ■>  •• 
he  said,  addressing  Peter  ^  ° ' 

to  N^:  y;^r  "Tw"  *''"•  P/'"'"^  «'"««  I  «""»« 
Mr  Miller!!  V,    ^  ^^"^  go'"'  en-ands  nrst  for 

"Yes*.Ti *""*■■  ^  ^"^  ^"■^^''  '^'f" 


Tiir.  ,ms„  onpnAN  ix  amewca.       117 
^^;' Humph  -   <,atisgoo<l;    vat  do  cxler  place. 

"No  ih    J.       I  \   ^^"  »ot  clerk,  ch ? » 

tliere,  too.     An"  Mr,  WnL      ^  ?°  messages 
school,  sir."         ^'^•W''*wshacImegoin'to 

M.'.'  r'aZ":  '?:„""* rde'::'t'   ^'J  '''■  ^'°  *-°' 
lose  no  thi.0,  eh?  "'  "*  *°  ''°*  "«''*  °ff- 

Tt'o-rj^l---^^^^^ 

Tiirnimr  IT,    ,        ^""^  ^°™''  time  to  come  " 
liming  back,  he   said  to  Weimar   "^T  1  1, 

go  immediately  about  that  nolo      Ti'   ■•     ^'"'" 
man's  name  is  Moreton  "    ""^^  "  ^  ^^''^ve  the 

darde'mat  J;'!u'lti  ^"^  ^^  '''''■  ^•"^  *<=»  h™ 
I'ands,  if  he  not  'i^  ♦  '  °"'"' '"  ^'°  '''"^y*'-'^ 
Talbot  nodded  andffi„n"?;°™"'  f°«noon." 
over  hia  w?  '  '®  "'''  German  bent  a<rain 

over  JUS  hooks,  wraonod  nn  in  ti,„-  "o-"" 

anparentlv  as  thZl^h-  P       *'^''""  contents, 
place.      ^ '         ^^  "°  'nterruption  had  taken 

ce:zr;:^.y!i'^rr;"^-Taibot,asthe3-pro- 


IJJ 


... 


118 


ATILLY   burke;     or, 


nothing  of  the  priests,  for  Mr  Woi^«. 
bear  to  hear  fhom  r««  7-       ,*  »Veiinar  cannot 
.     self  am  a  Catho?,?  ZTZfr  '^""^h  I  my. 
have  I  said  3hin<rif       "''"°'^^-n«'ttcr 

school,  or  where  vou°arP  ?'T  ^^'"8  *°  "'g'^'" 
»  easily  a^^anglrCrent  a"hl'  '"*  f"  *'''" 
hero,  for  the  "conrcnience  „?  r'^?'°'« ''•^ 
young  men  ;  and  when  the  !f«  boarding  our 
evening,  I  shall  introd,,.!   ^^T\T  <''°««^'  'his 

meutin  the  concern  un?l  ho  •       chief  manage- 

thpn   f^^v  +1  ^^^^^^  '^  smile,  "  Gc^d-hv 

tnen,  lor  the  present ;  I  hono  fn  L«  ^' 

Peter'a'Mrfor^lhir""^'^'  ''"""S''  *" 
all  around  them, 'and  even  t^f"  ''T^'  ^'"'^^ 
upon  their   ear  w».„    !      ^®  ""<'«"**  that  fell 

that  theywere  the  onlt"?'.  ^,  "  <'''"»««'l 
establishment     lII  Tn^  t.f"*^''°^'^  '"  ^^^ 

"IhlvP  !  °f,'".'"-0'ler,  Saunders?" 

sau  Itr::^;^ Vnowste  f  '";?''  '"'  '<>  ^as- 
better  than  I  expeS^f  "oeahtzes  around  here 

"VeU,vatyoutink?Deyworthkeeping,eh?" 


ir  cannot 
gh  I  my- 
—  neither 
to  niglit- 
''  all  that 
close  by 
ing    oiir 
3secl  this 
falcolm, 
'.  Saun- 
s  to  tlie 
nanage- 
em  duly 
od-bj', 
a  good 
uders." 

ugh  to 
e  faces 
lat  fell 
ianced 
in  the 
1,  Mr. 
Willy 
gs  un- 


Nas- 
l  here 

eh?" 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  119 

This  was  said  in  rather  a  low  tone      "  ToIk  ♦ 

tone  '^d:  lot"     JrM?"^;,t^  «T  '<"^ 
is  now  at  fault    f,  ^  T  7    .■'^"'''ots  judgment 

that  these  S  'are  b.fh  "  /*n  '"^''  '°  ^^'"^'^ 

dere,  vat  your  name  ? "  *^    ■        "^ '  ^  ^^  ^^^ 

*' William  Burke,  sir" 

p'^it.^to-d^u-"'^'^.^-" 

Priests       w  . '   "*  "°  "nk  mooch  of 

Sau:der7sa?to''™„':„fL'  >''  --'I  vtt 
do  veil  here^.  xlS  de  same  to"''*'  ^f  ^'""^ 
Say  old  Mr  Weimar  no  cZ  for  P-1^'  '*^'^"■• 
fader  dat,  but  he  like Znest  bov/daf  '^  "' 
vork  veil,  and  he  pay  dem  leuXh^-'  ^'" 
VVilly  made  a  low  bow  n^  ihJr.}A 

nevvfd  attS%  ^^J^^^J^!^ 


H, 


|i 


120 


WILLY  burke;    or, 


Icotetaan!-"'^  *"  ^-"^  ^"""-^  -t-f-t'on  of  the 

"  ^"^  P"''^^  the  day;  the  evening  fell." 

-  good  :r:,TofT:z'^^z' i:  'r' 

and  the  encouramno.  ]  ;    i^        ?^  fc>aunders, 

}"« dew  orsiJTon^tr/ ';;r  %'r 

concern,  and  Z  r^cMhe^  \7iu'''  "'  '"« 
Mrs.  Malcolm,  the  old  W  ,.  ,  *''•'  ^'"•"  "^ 
commendin-  them   X'   ^''°'<'''   honrekeepar  j 

special  prot^cHot '  Vo^'lZ  ^T''  '"  H 

have  a  watch  o'er  tli  I  Ei'^'il    ''^  "•"■«  I'» 
God,  anyhow    for  bHni       '„*''"" '»''3- ^l^ank 

care."    Thb VrsnM    ^  ^^/''^™  ""^«  3<»>r 
they  follow^!  M^^X'""'-^  *<>  the  brother's,  as 

Peter-  Tnt^^il'lf  t'-^i^if  "-  \"»'--nded 

lipor        UA      1 V    "^      ^^    "^®    church    was    nnito 

ful  smile.     «  You  see'  von  f ''"'' ''"'»  "  «''««'•' 
here  over  thp  nf h  J      \  "  '^"^^  ™  advantage 

u»  sects.    Crood-mght,  my  bovs'    I 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA.  121 

course  of  the  eveninrr  fi.«       ^"l^pei.     in  the 

waf  fn;i    o    1     M  *  ^^^PP«"ed,  that  wliile  Willy 
was    sad    and   silent,   weio-hed  down   h.^  /k 

t^fM  *^?'"  °^  '''^  recent  los^'pet^i   on' 

iaugn  and  jest,  soon  laughed  and  woto^  ttl 
merriest  of  all.     He  had  loved  hTs  mother  J  h 

aCf  th  "T  '"*"'  °"  Sandlys.  ^  Ven  left' 
alone,  the  boys  sat  for  a  while  talkinrover 

a^eed  that  they  would  To  n^vV.  !?„^"V^:l'\? 
viieir  iiiu  tiler's 


I    II 


grave,  and  also  to  see'^^their 


SIS- 


122 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


.      Litany  of  th'e  uC  Vir^i^^„^'f  "I"  f»i^  the 

gone  half-war  throu<rl,~i        *.  ^'"'  scarcely 
laughter  from    he  pfLS   "•?>"  '''"•«*  of 
n^a-le  both  start      iCslnfJ'*'"""  ">«  ''"or 
heard  one  of  thp  v^V.     ^  ^°'  "  moment,  thev 
of  the  others    'Cv^r°  *""""«  '<>  somi 
listen  to  the  Burkes  _1L,      """"^  ''^'■«-'   J"st 
»'ray  as  if  they  werTtw?  Tf  ""'"""j- Pr»3^ns 
the  Virgin,  I  pr^tlst  f  "''l^^J^thr Sf"  '  ""''  *» 
"civaneing  footstepsVas  hearrf  "  ^^""ndof 
as    though    severil    «„!  '  ""''  't  seemed 

wound  the  d^r     A  ill  "'    ^'^    "«tening 
Willy's  cheek-it  was   C^'r  °^«'«P'ea3 
nation  -  but,  mal  hJ  ,  J^  ?    f'*"^  °*'  i-^lig- 
due  his  anger  h^resumed  th   r?.*  ^'^"'^  ^o  sut 
nothing  hSd  CpeneT    A±'r/',"'  ^""g'^ 
raised  outside,   and   PeteT^^lf   ^^  'f  ^''  ^"s 
kneeling  posture  saving  ;      P'   "P   *^°n»  his 
jou  hear  them   mat '?'  1"^'°  V"'''^' "  »on't 
alone,  I  tell  you -"  Same  of  us?    Let  it 

wen  "\Si,n*°;^j?ll?^" '""-o-^^^^^^^ 
till  he  had  reached  the  .  ^7"'^'  '""'  stopped 
«tood  up,  and  quX  besan^^^''""-  '^^'^  ''« 
..  "Wh3-,  what  in  tte^  worid^.';«P^M'°^ ''•'''• 
"  made  you  £0  on  wl.»^ ,:  u™'  said  Peter, 
at  us  thit  w^  ?  suTe  S  )T'^  *''«'»  '"nghin! 
ever  I  seen."  ^      '^  *''^  queerest  feUow 

"I'll  just  tell  vou,  Petpr   wi,    t 

-     '  "t*r,  why  I  went  on," 


t-prajcrs. 
(^  say  the 
fs  brother 

scarcely 
burst  of 
the  floor 
'nt,  they 
to  some 
e!  just 
praying 

and  to 
ound  of 

seemed 
stening 
^spread 
indig- 
o  sub- 
though 
jh  was 
m  his 
Don't 
Let  it 

ranee, 

>pped 

?n  he 

*  bed. 

*eter, 

^hin* 

jUow 


on 


ft 


THE   IHISH   OnPH..N  IN  AMERICA.  123 

ttrut  J'i'i;ir 'a  1:  ^f'""^"  ?*"-  '-^- 

the  liste„.'^;;"f  "tm  r::,"n"' in  T"  "' 
sage.     *'Didn'f  a-^..  ^I-l    ",^*^""g  Jn  the  j^as- 

their  1  ail o-h in'  ^u       /  ^"^^  ^®  disreorard 

one  of  the  young^e^^LIf  C'CdsTcl 

clenched  hand    nnri  ^^  ^""^^^^  ^^*^  ^^^ 

.n^  ^..any  vvmcniie  had  heard  the 


m  |U?d 


i! 


\ 


; 


124 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


night  before.  The  repeated  bursts  of  lauo-h- 
ter,  which  these  derisive  tricks  called  forUi 
overwhelmed  Peter  with  shame  ;  and  althouo-h 
it  was  yet  considerably  before  the  time  Ibr 
grand  Mass,  yet  seeing- his  brother's  confusion, 
Willy  said  to  him,  "I  think  it's  time  to  go  to 
church,  Peter  ;  we  know  the  way  ourselves,  an' 
we  needn't  wait  for  Mrs.  Malcolm.  Are  you 
ready  to  come  ?  "  Peter  got  up  in  silence,  and 
reached  for  his  cap. 

"I  say,  Hamilton,"  said  one  of  the  3'oun<rer 
clerks,  aloud,  "aren't  you  for  church  this 
morning  ?     The  weather  is  very  tempting." 

*'  Not  I,  faith  !  "  was  the  prompt  rejofnder ; 
"  I'm  for  Staten  Island.  Catch  me  in  a  church 
such  a  morning  as  this!  Come,  get  ready' 
who's  for  the  water?  We'll  have  a  glorious 
sail ;  and  you  know  we  can  say  the  Litany  up 
stairs  to-night."  Then  turning  to  the  Burkes 
as  they  left  the  room,  without  seeming  to  no- 
tice his  ironical  hint,  "You'll  say  an  extra 
Pater  and  Ave  for  us,  won't  you,  my  lads  ?  " 

"We'll  pray  for  all  sinners,  if  that'll  do 
ye,"  said  Willy,  with  a  tartness  little  usual  to 
him,  as,  putting  on  his  cap  in  the  hall,  he 
reached  to  open  the  door. 

A  general  laugh  followed  this  repartee. 
"There  now,  Hamilton,  you've  got  it,  eh? 
haven't  you  ?  the  lad's  not  so  foolish,  after  all." 
And  as  the  boys  descended  the  steps  from  the 
door,  they  still  heard  the  merrv  clatter  of 
tongues  within. 


X 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA.  125 


d  forth, 
Ithongh 
ime  ibr 
iifiision, 
to  go  to 
ves,  an' 
\.re  3'ou 
ce,  and 


'ounger 
ih    this 
iig." 
binder ; 
church 
ready ! 
lorious 
an}^  up 
Burkes 
to  no- 
extra 
Is?" 
t'll  do 
3ual  to 
ill,  he 

)artee. 
t,  eh? 
3rall." 
>m  the 


Wlien  Mass  was  over,  the  brothers  went 
together  to  see  their  sisters  ;  and,  if  the^-  had 
not  met  for  3'ears,  tlie  little  girls  could  not 
have  been  more  rejoiced.  It  was  with  glad 
and  grateful  hearts  that  Peter  and  Will}-  heard 
the  artless  praise  wherewith  the  children  spoke 
of  their  benefactress,  who,  it  appeared,  was  a 
woman  of  rare  benevolence.  "  An'  sure  she's 
gettin'  us  nice  black  dresses  made,  for  she 
says  we  ought  to  have  mournin'  for  poor 
mother,"  said  little  Bridget ;  while  her  sister 
caught  up  the  words  with,  "An'  it  'id  do  ye 
good  to  hear  her  how  she  advises  us  ;  an'  she 
gets  us  to  tell  her  everything  about  poor  father 
an'  mother  ;  an'  then  the  tears  'ill  be  standin' 
in  her  eyes,  an'  she'll  tell  us  that  we  ought  to 
be  thankful  to  God  for  haviu'  given  us  such 
parents  ;  an'  she  makes  us  pray  for  them  every 
night  an'  mornin'." 

This  account  was  truly  welcome  to  the 
brothers  ;  and  before  they  left  they  made  it  a 
point  to  see  the  good  lady,  and  thank  her  for 
her  almost  unexampled  kindness  to  their 
orphan  sisters.  Mrs.  Williams  then  inquired 
how  they  liked  their  own  situation,  and  was 
much  pleased  by  Willy's  account  of  Mr.  Tal- 
bot. She  was  glad  to  hear,  too,  that  the 
housekeeper  where  they  boarded  was  a  Cath- 
olic, and  took  occasion  to  warn  them  that  they 
must  not  suffer  themselves  to  be  deterred  from 
performing  any  duty  of  religion,  how  trifling 
soever    in   itself,    by   the    covert    sneers    or 


v^f^ 


126 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


open  ridicule  of  their  comnanionQ      a  ai 

as  Ihov  ,v  1    '^  'f 'i'"  ""''  "'''  scliismatfc  scoff 

S  ttffl  '""^  ^'^''^  1'"^-  ""S  ana^ 
"^illy  saw  with  no  small  pleasure  that  hia 
brother  seemed  deeply  attentive  to  tlsl-inrf 
admonition,  which  L  therefore! loped  mii?,t 
produce   a   good   effect   upon    h  rmT„  ^  to 
^eenly  susceptible  of   anythino-  like  rid  .'nle 
"We're  goin'  ma'am,"  saiil  Wi%  "  to  t  0^: 
To  1*  Allf  r'.',^-  ^f  ''  ^■°"'''  ^^  sold  ZugL 
you'll?  ruch^'^'  "^""^  """  "^'  --^'^  thaSk 

WiIllmT-'""^,^f '  and  welcome,"  said  Mrs. 
the    sho'ldl '"'?=''   ^  '"^'  "<"  «t^nfl   that 

^ifa  r  u^tirthr^^m!!;Zi:r  f  t5 

affection -a  pious  dnty  it  is,  too-and  I  wH- 

them  hl7;°"^^"*-    T°"  -'">°'-c'ole,:ee 

astrav  in  fln"°r'"'   "'•  "'''^'   ""g'^t  easily   go 
astiaj   m  this  huge  city  of  ours."  '    ^ 

,  ^j  ^«umi     saia  reter,  *»aii* 


THE   IRISH    ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA.  127 


itholics, 
»ver  all 
on  love 
get  this 
ic  scoff 
is  their 
of  the 
liat  the 
sm,  and 

!iat  his 
is  kind 

might 
iid,  so 
dieule. 
5ee  our 
enough 

thank 

Mrs. 

I  that 
•lutelj- 
ready 
s,  are 
ty  of 
I  will 
e,  see 
y  go 


**an* 


we're  much  obliged  to  you   for  giviu'  them 
leave  to  come." 

About    half-an-hour's    walk     brought    our 
young  pilgrims  of  love  to  the  churchyard,  and 
with   streaming  eyes   they  knelt   around   the 
grave,  which  they  could  not  easily  have  recog- 
nized, had  not  Willy,  luckily,  noticed  its  posi- 
tion with  regard  to  the  gate.     Piously  and  fer- 
vently did  they  all  offer  up  their  prayers  for  the 
repose  of  their  mother's  soul ;  and  as  they  bent 
with  clasped  hands  and  bowed  head  around 
the  holy  grave,  there  could  be  no  more  touch- 
ing illustration  of  the  beautiful  doctrine  of  the 
church,    the    never-ending    communion,   over 
which    death    holds   no   power.    When   they 
arose  from  their  knees,  Willy  observed  to  his 
brother:    "Doesn't   it   do  your  heart  good, 
Peter,  dear,  to  come  here  an'  pray  for  her  soul  ? 
It  just  seems  to  me  as  if  I  had  herself  to  talk 
too ;  an*,  when  I  kneel  on  the  grave  where  I 
seen  her  covered  up,  I  can  fancy  that  I  hear 
her  talkin'  to  me  as  she  used  to  do,  an'  then  I 
find  myself  uplifted  above  the  world,  an'  I  say 
to  myself,  '  Please  God  I'll  never  do  anything 
to  disgrace  her  bones  in   the  claj'.'"    Peter, 
on  his  part,  declared  his   intention  to  come 
often.    "  But,"  said  he,  "  we  ought  to  mark  the 
gi-ave  some  way  or  another,  or  we'll  soon  not 
be  able  to  find  it  out." 

"I  was  thinkin'  of  that,  too,"  said  his 
brother ;  "an'  next  Sunday,  when  we  come, 
we'll  bring  a  long,  sharp  stone,  or  a  slate,  that 


I 


m 


i: 


( 


128 


WILLY   BURKE  ;    OR, 


over  l,er  •  if  ro?l  I.?        "'"'"f  <»•»  head-stone 
be  able  to  doU^at  "'       '  "''  ^  '"'P"  "'''"  «°0" 

ion  telTe;^';^ ^llr-^^^^^^  j  -f  I'-ing 

turned  to  tbei,-  „e,v«rg,  wte  thevf'  '"" 
good  Mrs.  Malcolm  awiif/tl^  ^T  •  ^^^X  founa 
-.  dinner  l,ad  been  sTrntt  L  ^eaVr- 7?^' 

spc^rting  their  ^ure'dt^TofsSaS^  ?-" 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  129 


uch  time 
ad-stone 
e'll  soon 

5  having 
hers  re- 
■y  found 
iarance, 
"An*," 
grace- 
y're  all 
land." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  FOURTH  OF   JULY.  -  POCKET-MONEY. 

]^EITHER  Father  Fitzherbert  nor  Mr.  Tal- 
bot  had  forgotten  their  engagement  with 
regarcl  to  sending  the  brothers  toTSl  anlc^ 
the  Wednesday  following  they  both  went  ?o  an 
excellent  evening-school,  whose  teacher  was  in 
every  respect  qualified  for  the  charge  he  held 
being  as  conscientious  in  the  discharge  of  h^ 
dutj,  as  he  was  fully  competent  to  fulfil  i 
Father  Fitzherbert  had  been  mainly  instruLn 

it V t''"'!"^  '"^'^  ^^^^^^^  fo/thelnsW 
tion  of  boys  who  were  unable  to  attend  anv 

day-school,  and  it  was  his  practice  to  visit  it 
at  least  once  a  week,  so  as  to  examine  the  pro- 
gress  of  the  boys,  and  ascertain  thai  not£n; 
^^s  to  be  neglected  that  could  possibly  pi  omotf 
their  improvement.  ^  p^t^moie 

himse7f'on^Si''  '"''"^'  ^"^^^^^^'  *«  ^^^^ 
S  iZr^Z  ^'-  '''^''''"^'  of  Father  Fitzher- 
Dcits  Ivind  permission  to  .visit  his  librarv 
The  first  time  he  went  he  prevailed  on  his 
brother  to  accompanv  him.  hnf  p....  vT'I  ^.^^ 
iove  for  reading,  still  WibV  thVtTolTranl 


130 


yriLLY  burke;   or. 


bo  brought  fogo  again.'   ^^m^JrlLZ' 

week  Zl  we'l^Vcto  outir?'"!  V'" 
such  books  as  you  read  in  it     iV  Vi   ^   ,  *'',''" 

"  Wnll   f  f  °  """  f'""  »ncl  down-heart" cl  " 

4?e\ft  lit  r:toZ';iLt-:j^^:;,;"' 

things  in  them  bo'oLThat  Cppel cUo"S 
X  ur  mj  part,  1  d  rather  read  them  than  ill  f  im 
[n'H*;:S"  •""'  ^''°^'  ^'°"-  *'^''*  --  -ri  Si 

Father Fitzherbert's      Al^l  ^Z  '"'y'^°^<^  to 

in  +K«+    1 11      ;         *     ^ "  rather  have  one  Ipof 

n  that  old  book  that  Johnny  O'Grady  ?cnt  me 

'The  Irish  Rogues  an' Kannn,.»a.  '  "if„„  "  .™^' 


THE   IRISH    ORPHAN   IN    AMERICA.  131 

big  books  in  the  librarv  •  %n  T'li  ^^4- 
more,  tluat's  all  about  it '"  "  ""'  ^°  "">' 

"  Well,  Peter,  I'm  heart-sorry  to  hear  vn,, 

l^' '"'  ?k'T'  ^"'J-'  "  f«^  ^  know  vo^-rXd?" 
chance  that  v  «  may  never  havei^ai.K" 

ihat  8  my  own  concern,  an'  nSt  yours  so 
1  don't  want  to  hear  any  more  abont  i/-^  ,' 
liter's  reply,  and  Willj^  said  no  mo^   '    But 
lie  had  soon  a  more  severe  trial  to  meet  •  for  t 
appeared  that  in  Peter's  case,  as  it  geu'en  ly 

giace  or  divme  favor  was  quickly  followed  bv 
a  grievous  temptation  which  he  had  no  stretlh 

foU^wht  ?"r '■'''""*''' '"  ">"  ''""f^"  °f  ">   -?ek 
the  hZ!  conversation  just  related,  when 

the  brothers  were  on  their  way  to  the  school 
Peter  suddenly  said:    «  You  Wouldn^  S 
who  I  seen  the  day,  Willy  ?  "  ^ 

;'  No,  certainly,"  said  Willy,  "  l  can't  im 
agme  ;  was  it  anybody  from  Ii-elaud?'' 

1,     ?  °f<  ??  ^"  "^  "''"'"  returned  Peter,  with  a 
laugh,  "  It  was  Mr.  Watkins  " 

"  Mr.  Watkins  !  "  cried  Willy ;  "  an'  where 
did  you  see  him?"  ^        iu  wuere 

"Sure,  in  his  own  office.     Mr.  Weimar  «Pnt 

me  there  with  a  letter,  an'  you  never  Sen  an  v 

one  in  a    your  life  gladder  ^o  see  anothertha^ 

m  Watkms  was  to  see  me.     He  asked  me"  I 

^.«bout  how  I'm  gettin'  on,  an'  he  saTj  mj^ 

IZt  "h'  T  ^^''-  ^'''''in^.for  that^he  often 
taUs  about  me:  sn  T',t.  «.^;„'^i .  ^" 

emin',  instead  of  goi^'lo'scS:  ''^g:'^ 


t» 


,*"'■ 


V3'2 


\ 


•I 


ill 


nil 


WILLY   burke;     or, 


>.eca„,,e%be  was  so  '^-o^f  ^'"^  ""^  «#  while, 
or  another  I  rlon't  m  „    ^      '  >">*  somehow 

ought  to  be  .4  school  ^ICm"  ^^  ^^''^°  3-on 

;;as  so  much  afra^Uf  j^u'r'S'rf  """""^ 
them  — "  ^   "^  S^"i  next  or  near 

h^sein  "  I  could  ef'Father^'ptf/h  't!'^  '">  "> 
to  ask  him  what  he  thoulht  ok'^^''!'''*"'*'  J"st 
suppose  I  can't  Uf  }''}°"gM  about  it.     But  I 

too  late  ihTZloZfT'^V  '^<""<^  "e 
i?n't  his  eveni^'  to  vsit  us  "''^?''  »"'  *'- 
sighed  heavily,  for  he  Wl  T '  ■  '^"''  ""*'"  ^^e 
brother  was  ^gain  rushW  i"!'"','^'"^  ""'*  "s 
then  thej  reached  the  ,cL  T,°  ''"'"S"'"-  J»st 
versation  was  for  that  tim»t '''"''''  ""^  «»"- 

On  the  foUo^n*  mo  Snfxv",,""^- 
up  and  dressed  by  thTS^.r!,'"-'  ^"""^^^  ^as 
"Will  you  come  to  mSsIw.T'^- dawn. 

-awaking  his  brother  from,   i       '     ''^  ^^i^'' 

"the  morning  is  ver  -  fine,    i^"''^'  slumber 

in  time  for  breakfast."      '      '^  '''*'  ''^°  "^o  ^^^ 

"Can't  you  go  off  alone,  as  vo.,  ., 

-  J  --«  Mv  every 


THE  IHISH  OWKAN  ,x  AMKUICA.         133 

east  they  may  sleep  as  I  nl;  al  thev 'e',  'r  ^1 
knows  we  have  to  be  111" Wnf"^  '^'V  ^'""'^ 
onouirh."  "i^  ^^^^    '^*  work  early 

*'  Well  Peter,  I'rn  sorrv  v^,i»n      4. 
mornin',  for  I'm  ifrniT?  ^  J  ^  "^*  come  this 
before  ^u,  L^ ,t^L^  7  ^""''^  ""  ^'^^^^tion 

grace.     Tl At^s  in^t  f  h!      '^  '"  "^"^^  «^  ^^^uble 
&  xiuit  s  just  the  reason  whv  T  ooi.^.i 

to  come  with  me  now  "  "^        ^^^^^  ^^"^ 

could  alone  be  11^'Huf'  "'  "■''^'"^  be 
erally  over  by  se veT"  '  "'  '"■''"^''''^'  ^'''^  g«»- 

a=-eeabi;sXTs!d"\Vfi'°d°PeZ";S-"^  r 
him  at  the  first  corner  '"''"=  ^<»' 

be  stajin-  a\  Mrs  Watkins's  ti  UVI  L"v  "j"^"' 
liome  alone;  an'  Mrs  MnlLi  ■  -.^'' *°  S<* 
>vhen  any  of  us  is  out  Hto  w"?,  'f "  '  •"«'''««^' 
find  Mrs'.  Watktasf'f  :•„  Jlf^'^-^'^'lyou 
great  deal  to  do  about  you"?  "  "°^  °""  '"''"''  " 
You  may  say  that,   Willy,"  replied  hU 


i:   I* 


134 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


■    afters  fdon'?;''?"^^''  °"  *"?««>«,   «a„' 

this  week  here  \n'  Pm   /        ¥  ^"l^  P»t  in 

to  go  back  again  to  them   wif  h    °*" '"'°""'«'' 
an,  one      even  FaVr^KSV^""^-'""' 

Father^  Fitzherbert V  own  business,  an'  not 
onglit  not  to  cross  fhp  -i  *^''''T  *  '"^'>' 
ajap^rbis^--^^^^^^^ 

pr:a4'^;iJrf.^;^t"o^\-^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

a%oTsU:Tsnb^-ra:  f "^^^^^^^^ 

ask  bis  advice  about  Z  ^^^^^"''  «"'  goin'  to 

BesMes,  yoricforaf   eTa  Ho'  tT""'' 
mother,  on  her  dpath  h^^  ^  *^^*  P^or 

Father  Fitzhlrberf  and  Af^f-."'  '",  "^""'S'  ♦" 

liaiw  when  be  promised  i^i  I:!    J""*'"  ^^'  *"« 
guide  us.     Av  an'  vn„  i        "''=''  ?''«■"  "»,  an' 

very  people  mado  I?    v^T'  *°°'  ^^at  these 

an'-gHevrhe?t  Cch'Z/i'b'"^'  ™°*^'-' 
over  it."  ^"^*  ^^^  never  got 

Here  Petpr  hrr.]^«  : u- 

—  "^  "urupuy,  being  unable 


^• 


"  an', 
•  an'  Mr. 
lej've  of. 
i  '  have 
into  the 
y  put  in 
to  them 


)) 


ft 


cried 
romised 
nsultin' 

other, 
an*  not 

body 
or  buy 
priest's 

!ier  re- 
there's 
priest 
)in'  to 
lation. 
b  poor 
rge  to 
3r  die 
IS,  an' 
these 
>ther, 
r  got 

lable 


THK   IiaSII   ORPHAN    IX   AMERICA.  135 

to  deny  the  truth  of  what  his  brother  said  ;  and 
resolved   at   the   same  time  to  have  his  o  "n 

a  ivr'  1,  .?''^")^^  ^'''''''  "^  "^o^<^  on  the  subject. 
U  ell,  there's  no  use  in  talkin',  ••  I'll  keen 
my  promise,  let  what  will  come  or  ^o  ;  motlier's 
not  ahvc  now  to  forbid  me,  an'  no  one  else  has 
a  nn^lit  to  do  it." 

«J'^"liT^.^^:-  Talbot,"  persisted  Willy, 
seeing  that  all  else  failed  to  produce  any  im^ 
pression,  -  what  will  he  say  to  your  leavin' 
without  any  notice,  an'  without  bein'  able  to 

w  M  "^\r.^^'  ^^'^  1^^^^^-  I'^  sure  himself 
'^lain  "''    ^^^'"'-'^^   ^^'ill   li^-ive   reason  to  com- 

**  I  don't  care  a  fig  for  either  of  them,"  was 
Feter  s  reply  ns  he  bounded  up  the  steps  and 
rang  the  bell ;  for  just  then  they  reached  their 
domicile,  and  he  was  well  pleased  to  cut 
short  a  conversation  which  he  found  trouble- 
some. But  Willy  had  no  mind  to  renew  the 
cliscussion,  having  resolved  to  apprise  Father 
Fitzherbert  of  his  brother's  intentions,  and  he 
well  knew  that  if  any  one  could  persuade  him 
Irom  a  course  so  perilous,  it  was  he,  and  he 
alone. 

Next  day,  Willy  sought  and  found  an  op- 
portunity to  acquaint  Mr.  Talbot  with  the 
whole  affair,  and  ask  his  permission  to  ffo 
during  the  day,  to  Father  Fitzherbert.  Mr! 
lalbot^was  both  pained  and  disappointed  by 
.ais  iiiioniiation.  "i<or,'^  said  he  to  Willy, 
I  know  these  people,  these  Watkins's,  even 


136 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


they  ^iHiran'''''  1"  ^  *™  P''^^""^'«'  that 
coSnis,  nf  H    •  ^   ""''  everythiniT  within   the 

ZVuo  f  dt  r"'/"'™''  *°  *"™  '"'"  """r  from 
1 10  true  laith.     I  am  soiTy,  very,  vcrv  soitv 

be  l^n  T"'  '1  'lete^incd.     I  tlu^k  t  „  .'i  t 

8,^SI"       """  *°  'P""''  *°  '"^  -J-^^lf  on  the 

^vlV^"";.  '^  "'silt,  sir,"  said  Vrilly  ;  "  yon  can 
explain  the  matter  to  him  better  than  I  can 
an  perhaps  lie  might  listen  to  reason  from  you' 

^ert    a^lVV':  ^'"/°  ""'  «««  ^'^"t'-''  She": 
brill.,^".  "'''  '"■"   *°  «°'"*'  »"'  «Peak  to  my 

But  whether  it  was  that  Peter  susneeterl 
what  was  going  forward,  and  shrank  Aom  the 
anticipated  force  of  persuasion,  or  that  he  tool- 

l?  C^wf U'rT'' '"  '•""-■nSrS 

nronf  .f  ^  inclinations,  and  thus  givinn-  a 
proof  of  what  he  considered  indenendcne?  if 
IS  certain  that  while  AVilly  was  goTe  to  Ser 

fore  m'^W  •''°"'';'  '"'  «"''^l-l/'^»l  ': 

hL  thai  h?"""""  I"  ^'^  "ffl"".  »>Kl  informed 
liim  that  he  was  about  to  leave  immediateh 
The  old  man  was  at  first  taken  by  sum  w' 
and  desired  to  know  the  cau.e  of  this  s>    rtnn'    ' 

tell  him  ih'th:'""  ^r' '"  -•%'  -"^^^^^^^^^^ 
ten  him  that  he  was  offered  higher  wao-es  fmm 

wnv^'f  ""P.'"^"^''  ^^'•-  ^^••'tkins,  tlTe  Geraian 
waxed  wroth  ;  and  reminding  the  boy  thThe 
had  consented  to  take  him    it  firi    7 1  , 
to  oblige  Mr.  Talbot,  he  very 'nomfwl^.^lt!^: 
'o  -  i,o  to  cie  i^eevii ; "  adding :  "  You  tiiJcTie 


II 


C(l  that 
Iiin  the 
^y  from 
r  sorry, 
t  ini^riifc 

on  the 

roil  can 
1 1  can, 
m  you. 
'itzher- 
to  my 

pected 
m  the 
le  took 
3  bent 
ing   a 
ice,  it 
''ather 
id  be- 
)rmed 
atclj'. 
prise, 
idden 
only 
from 
rman 
at  he 
olelj- 

:    i-ll.Hl 

kmo 


THE   IRISH    ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA.  137 

offer  3^011  more  wages  because  you  tink  your- 
Belf  of  use  here,  but  I  wouldn't  even  let  you 
stay  now,  so  go  off  vid  you.  Your  brother  —  he 
want  higher  wages,  too  —  ho  want  to  go,  eh  ?" 

"No,  sir;  I  didn't  hear  him  say  anything 
about  it." 

"  Veil,  him  be  noting  dc  vorse  ;  go  now  ! " 

So  when  poor  Willy  returned,  elate  with 
Father  Fitzherbert's  promise  to  see  and  reason 
with  Peter  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  what 
was  his  sorrow  and  disappointment  when  he 
found  Peter  waiting  outside  the  door  to  bid 
liim  "  good-by." 

"You  needn't  be  frettin'  about  it,  Willy," 
he  said,  seeing  his  brother's  ch'^nge  of  coun- 
tenance. "  Please  God,  you'll  /  I  that  I'll  do 
what's  right.  You  may  be  sure  I'll  never  dis- 
grace mj'  father  nii*  mother,  though  they'  e 
both  dead  [\'  '  gone,  by  forgettin'  the  religion 
that  they  taught  me.  Now  you'll  see,  Willy, 
if  I  don't  go  every  month  to  confession  an* 
communion  as  well  as  yourself;  an*  another 
thing,  whenever  3'ou're  goin'  to  see  motlier's 
grave,  you  can  come  for  me,  an'  I'll  go  with 
you.  Give  m}^  love  to  Biddj^  an  Ally,  an*  tell 
them  I'll  come  soon  to  see  them." 

"  But  didn't  you  tell  me,"  said  Willy,  "that 
you  weren't  goin'  till  Saturda}^  e\  enin'  ?  What 
made  3'ou  change  3'our  mind  ?  " 

"  Oh !  I'll  tell  you  that  some  other  time,'* 
replied  his  brother,  with  a  light  laugh ;  and 
seizing  Willy *s  hand,  he  shook  it  warmly,  and 


■         'III 

i 


ri 


'fm 


138 


'^^LLY  BURKE  ;    OR, 


tt  «n?af^S-  :f  «  -PM  step.  ca„,i„g 

t»ne  to  inrlu]<re  mi,,  .tfl''^"'  ''  "'''«  '^en  no 
to  hi.s  work.  Tbo"t  i^f;^'''*"'  '°  ''^  '"'«t«°«I 
summoned  to  the  prt/n^e  Tlf'"'{i''' ^^' 
^'Iw,  as  soon  as  he  made  hi/.!!  ^^'™"^' 
front  of  the  desk  L^.t^  u?  ^PPearance  in 
broder  gone,  eh"'  '^"^  '""'  '^"'^'  "  Your 

j.^,"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Willy,   <..„d  r„  30^ 

"I^Teed'Vr^^f^'^H^'^-:' 
to  complain.    Pik  wdf  Lii'T?"  *  «nj<=ause 

aany  thanks  to  fou  a"d  Mr  Tal'bor-'^'  ^"^' ' 
I  hope,  Mr.  Weimar  von^I  nP i?*,'  ^"■-  ^n' 
my  brother  leav?„-  ^ou  for.h  ""^  '"""'^  <"" 
gone  to  were  very  kind  t„  h.-  ^  P^°^^^  ^^'^ 
with  them  before  nn-ff  T  '^'"^"  be  was 

promises  now  I'ir   thi.  {  made  him  such  fair 
them."  '  *"^'  *''*'  ''^  couldn't  get  over 

whltslKone  thll,?*  °^^  •»""'  '"  a  some- 
very  good  lad  But  d'ev'^Tetr"^  "^'"''  "3°« 
priest  man,  eh?  youlo!^  l"  T  J'""  &«at 
morning,  «i..'  hoi  ^sfl^t" ''''"'■'=''  "'''^'  «^'«X 

tone  "Z'tt^i/Sif  a  -  «  <J«P-catin, 
Mrs.  Malcolm  can  te  V  \T  ""«  ^°^  tbat 
back  .ome  time^^f^  C^^  fXTl^.! 


THE  IRISH   ORPHAN  IN  AMERICA. 


139 


a  week  more,  de  same  wages  your 


goin'  to  church  never  kept  me  a  minute  from 
my  work." 

"  I  know  dat  well  enough,"  was  the  sharp 
reply,  "  but  I  no  like  all  dis  going  to  church. 
And  den,  worse  den  all,  you  under  de  priest's 
finger,  you  never  do  noting  without  his  leave. 
Now,  I  sa}-  no  more  dis  time,"  but  only  dis : 
Don't  go  to  church  so  often,  dat  no  use,  and 
don't  let  de  priests  humbug  you  an}-  more  ;  be 
good  bo}^  dat  way,  and  no  fool,  and  I  give  j'ou 
de  dollar 
broder  has  from  Watkins." 

"  I  humbl}^  thank  you,  Mr.  Weimar,"  said 
Will}',  "  3'ou  are  fur  too  good  to  me,  for  I  was 
well  content  with  the  wages  I  had  ;  but  I  hope 
3'ou'll  not  be  offended,  sir,  if  I  tell  you  that  I 
can't  consent  to  leave  off  going  to  church,  so 
long  as  I  can  make  time  to  go  without  inter- 
ferin*  with  the  business  ;  and  with  regard  to  the 
priest,  sir,  he's  all  the  father  I  have,  an*  I'll 
never  promise  not  to  be  guided  by  him.  It 
was  my  mother's,  aye,  an'  my  father's,  last 
advice  to  us  all,  an',  with  God's  help,  I'll  never 
forget  it.  So,  sir,  if  3'ou  don't  choose  to  raise 
my  wages  just  as  things  stand,  I'm  content 
with  what  I  have." 

"  You  strange  boy,  Willy  Burke,"  said  the 
German,  after  a  short  pause.  ''  I  tell  you 
again,  I  like  3'ou  better  if  jou 
Papist ;    but  no  matter,  dev  tell 


not  so  much 
me  vou  work 


well,  and  do  everj-  ting  dey  bid  you,  so  3'ou 
get  the  wages  I  say  while  ago.    Go  off,  now, 


n 


140 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


^oir  So1vXSi'°^  "T"  '■■"^  to  talk 

much  gratined   by  Weimn,^  „       '   ?"''  "''''^ 

«ai<lhe1  "  there  is  in  tVs  Wilh-  ^  ^-^P?"'*-^''" 
nestness  of  purpose  «,„<•?  "  ^""1*'"  <""■- 
,«lnch  will  „  aki°,Tm  a  t!,,^  "^'  *"^  i""'"Ple, 
^erof  society  as 'vel  V?^'  '•'=^P«''t'''We  miir.: 
Christian.     I^  hlth   f.      ^'"'"'™ ""''  Poetical 

t6  say,  st;adi"e  rlli*  ^s"  rf  "r^'  '^ 
13  totally  wantino-  nnri  T  „  u  ]?  ~'"^  brotlier 
not  turn  out  welP'  u.  iT"^  '^°":'  "''"'* ''« '^"1 
self  his  fears  ,^^th  res^eotTnli;' ''?'  *°  '"'"- 
which  he  feared l>cte.„,S  *'f  '''''*«"«  of 
the  dupe,  for  alth?uU'^;*P;«"t„ally  become 

none  of  that  poselvtifi„a.«,!"fu'"'  ''"'e  or 
kins  and  his  wK'Snf  >  '''"*"'  ^^"t- 
not  the  Catholic  ribbon  *^'''  ^'^'^ ''«  'oved 
did.  ®''Sion  any  more  than  they 

•  Father  Fitzherbert  eillprf  th„4 
cording  to  promise    nn-1  "*  evening,  ac- 

when  rnfonned!bvMrM''f ',""''''  g-^eved 
timt  Peter  wa  a  reS"  sot°' V"''  '^'"^•' 
much  consoled  by  Peter'!  ?!•  ^°''  "'"«'  ''« 
repeated  by  his  brotho,-.  if  '*""  Promises,  as 

with  a  despondb"  ti   '  t    '^f  "^  ^''  ''^^'l 

"  God  granU.img°racetoten^t ''■''''  "  ''^^^ 
-tliat  is  all  I  can  say  "     iv   ^?^  Promises ! 

essarily  short,  as  he  wi;  on  h  ^  CVr^.  "r 
sickperson,who,  although  notfnln^iLX: 


to  talk 

V. 

md  was 
;  of  his 
:)ected," 
pie  ear- 
iiiciple, 
e  mcm- 
factical 
that  is 
brother 
he  will 

0  him- 
?ns  of 
•ecome 
tie  or 

1  Wat- 
lovecl 

I  they 

gi  ac- 
ieved 

Ls  he 
s,  as 
head 
sigh, 
ises  I 
nec- 
sit  a 

linfa 


THK    IRISH    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA,  141 

danger    still  desired  to  receive  the  last  sac- 
raments. 

Two  or  three  weeks  after,  came  the  Fourth 
ot  .inly,  then,  as  now,  the  carnival  day,  —the 
flay  of  all  days  for  the  citizens  of  New  York 
On  the  eve  of  this  great  national  festival,  each 
of  tlic  young  men  in  the  employment  of  Weimar 
&  lalbot  was  presented  with  a  few  dollars,— 
less  or  more  in  proportion  to  their  age,  — to 

two  dol lai-s  given  him,  and  he  received  it  not 
alone  with  the  gratitude  that  might  be  expected, 
but  with  a  fulness  of  satisfaction  that  surprised 
Ml.  lalbot,  at  least.  No  remark  was  made, 
h^      v.r,   and  Willy   retired   with  his   prize! 

Z     \i%'^'^  Y^''*  """'^  *^^^^'  his  sisters,  with 
Mrs.  Williams's  permission,  to  see  some  of  the 
rare  sights  every  where  to  be  seen.    They  called 
at  Mr.  Watkins's   for  Peter,  but   Peter  had 
gone  out,  and  was  not  expected  back  till  even, 
mg.     Bi-other  and  sisters  were  disappointed  on 
hearing  this,  and  their  affectionate  hearts  were 
pained  by  Peter's  neglect  of  them  all.     Mrs. 
VV  illiams  had  given  each  of  the  little  girls  a 
quarter-dollar    for    pocket-money,  but   Willv 
would  not   permit  them  to  spend  any  of  it 
Neither  did  he  break  in  on  his  own  two  dollars! 
but  contented  himself  with  laying  out  a  ten-cent 
piece  which  he  had  in  his  pocket,  and  that 
solely  for  cakes  and  candies  for  the  girls 

"Now  it  isn't  that  I'd  0-mrlo-n  »  ooti  u^  l.^^ 
laj  out  every  penny  of  the  two  dollars  I  got 


142 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


I. 


for  pocket-money,  but  I'll  just  tell  you    ahU 
that  I'm  keepin'  them  for  somothni  ol'se^  nn' 
vou  wouldn't  guess  what  it  is  ! "  ' 

One  guessed  a  new  cap.  another  a  Dair  of 
shoes ;   another  would   waeer  it  w^,   t^  I 
^«^-^- ,,"  No,  then,  you're  fothou7t  is  Lc"" 

a^a f-^r- --r/e^^^^^^ 

hei  brt'hT'"?- ""''  ^^''''  ""•«  Sirl  pulled  out 
hei  bright,  snining  quarter-dollir,  and  handed 

ow  whLrfn'''  ''^'^"i'^  -ying,  though  if  f 
low  whisper,  for  crowds  were  hurrvin^  on  oil 

let   us.  put   our   money   in  too? -sure   we'd 

rather  g,ve  ,   for  that  than  for  anythi,'gX 

n   the   world.     Here,   Willy,    here's    m?ne"' 

A,,a„.n,,„etoo."  said  little  Alice  ;    "isn't 

ont  ?'^     W-,  '"?S  !^"-^  "■«  '"dn't  lay  any  of  it 

sote  wav1i^'*^°''*'"l"'°'"'J--  "ndlalk'ed  on 
some  waj  in  silence  between  his  sist.Pi»    r^!. 

heir  childish  generosity  touched  M  h;art 
Having  seen  the  greater  part  of  what  wa« 
worth  seeing,  he  left  them  a  home  e^rlv  inTho 
evenmg,  and  willingly  accepted  Mrs.  \Wliams^s 
invitation  to  remain  for  tea  'mams  a 

SnllZ^^mA^"'""  ^"^^'^''J''  ^^'-  Talbot, 
nnciing  WiUj  alone  in  a  corner  of  the  warol 

house    as  he  passed  through,  suddenly  Xd 

him  whether  he  had  spent  all  hU  two  dollai 


TIIE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  143 

"No,  sir/'  was  the  reply  ;  "  I  diclu't  break  on 

it  at  all." 

"And  why  not,  pray?  I  thought  you  tes- 
tiliecl  the  utmost  pleasure  when  it  was  eiven 
3'ou !  "  ° 

"  Well,  sir,  that's  because  I  have  a  particular 
use  for  it." 

"And  may  I  ask  what  that  '  particular  use ' 

,13? 

Willy  modestly  explained  his  intention,  and 
also  mentioned  the  half-dollar  that  he  had  got 
from  his  sisters.  Mr.  Talbot  turned  a\niy 
without  uttering  anotlier  word ;  in  fact,  his 
emotion  was  so  great,  that  he  could  not  have 
spoken  without  betraying  his  weakness,  as  he 
deemed  it ;  he  therefore  hurried  away,  while 
Willy  looked  after  him,  surprised  by  his  abi-upt 
departure.  ^ 

Sunday  came,  and  Willy  called  for  Peter,  as 
usual,  when  on  his  way  to  church.  When 
Mass  was  over,  they  went  to  take  a  Valk  in 
the  Park,  and  Willy  told  his  brother  that  he 
was  going  to  see  about  the  cross,  or  head-stone 
for  their  mother's  grave,  in  the  course  of  the 
week. 

"But  Where's  the  use  in  seein'  about  it," 
said  Peter,  "  till  such  times  as  we're  able  to 
pay  for  gettin'  it  done?  It'U  come  to  a  good 
acai  of  money." 

"  Only  four  dollars,  Peter,  an'  I  have  two  an' 
a-half  of  that  now ." 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  had  no  money  at  all, 


144 


WILLY    DURKE;     or, 


wlieii  I  had  them  n„t  V.  *J^"^i'^  "»  ^"y, 
then,  every  one  of  nT  in'?..^*;  ^"'"""^ '  '^"' 
warehouse,  got  ,ome  'n"  w  ^'"""^  ""''  ">  «>e 
gave  me  notlZ<r7^^t,^''Y'"'?'"'y'  «»'  they 
tlien  Mrs    Win?      ^  *'"*"  t"'"  dollars  in  bills  • 

,  moruin',  and  they^J™  1°?""°^^ "'  °"  ^"''"J- 
the  rest  So  you  fee  tl  !/  "f  *°  P"*  '"  '^"h 
anda-half,  an'\ou  can  1,  •!"  '  *'""  ''""''^^ 
remainder  litlonh  on!' '„'"'"'='>  S'^«  *e 
want,  you  know    °r'\''"«  ^""ar  an'  a-half  we 

they  til?me  bui  s1^lh"'  ''°"'''  «°™«  *"  "ore! 

wai  as  ''^A'Z^\Z:TXT  ''  '' 
I  like  to  see  a  cross  nv^.  /  ^"^*®  ^^*<^ss. 

mother  herself  TrsreouM^^^   '"'  ^'^  ^"^^ 
about  it,  would  la-n  -f  K  ..      ^'"^'^  anything 

"P,"saTcl'/eter,"uso"wrt,:'".'='^  ^"^  P"' 
put  in  it  for  deco„c,  -s  sake      n  ?  !  ''"^'"""^    • 
the  truth,  Willv"      if.        ;    ^"^  *<>  tell  you 

to  his  ve;y  Seal     fftnf  ,?'''"^'''"°°»te<' 
can't  help  you  to, L^ft  ?  H"  J'°"  *''«  truth,  I 


iek,"  said 

nts,  an*  I 
an'  Allj, 
rth;    but 
fid  in  the 
an*  they 
in  bills ; 
i  a  quar- 
n  Friday 
i  in  with 
dollars 
give  the 
•half  we 
io  more, 
^en  if  it, 
5  cross, 
'm  sure 
lything 
r  head- 

I  want 

:  |.  » 

)u  put 
ything    . 

II  you 
)unted 
ruth,  I 
lilling 

lean 

agrin, 

;?  nr.» 


THE  IRISH   ORPHAN  IN  AMERICA.         U5 

Ct'Ct""'  ^°*  ""^'"^'"^  "^""""^  *be„,  except 

ph-M^nf  t""  t"°"-'''"  ''''«  «>«  ^onft^sed  re- 
on  V  -1        ""l"'  °"'  "'*  some  of  our  bova 
on  Friday,  an',  somehow  or  another    I  °il 
through  every  penny  of  what  I  h-ul   nJ  ^ 
rowed   half-a-dinar\esides!  of  ^IrnhZ 

affair  fwouTcv't'f  '  ""'  "^-g'>'  ""-t^'ttU 
anair,  l  woulcn  t  have  spent  the  money  as  I 

"  You  know  we  had  agreed,"  said  Will,-  f„ 
a  sorrowful  accent,  "  that  we  were  to  do  i' 

t  tit  "at  r  Vhtr; it  ™L  ™ »°' 

bro^m  an"d'»f  .""""^  "^  *''"  afternoon,  the 

reatZTLtlhVXe"4to  Sl^^^^^^^ 
pers  and  see  Mm.  a'rJ.^f  Z.^°  ^^^  X^ 

not  seen  for  several"  weei^  Th^y  Tnir 


146 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


cordingly  and  were  grieved  to  find  that  times 
were  sadly  altered  with  that  worthy  woman 

hnr  ^'ifr"^;  .^^^^  ^^"^^^"^^  ^'^'^  f^"en  in'o 
bad  health,  and  had  been  some  time  out  of  em- 
ployment while  her  son,  the  main  hope  of  the 
household,  had  been  induced  to  go  to  sea 
O^PrnT'^  T^  all  depending  on  what  Mrs! 
O  Grady  and  her  oldest  daughter  could  earn 
h}  washing  and  going  out  charing.  Every- 
thing 111  and  around  the  house  gave  sad  evi- 

sorrow  that  the  young  Burkes  noticed  the 
alteration  m  poor  Mrs.  O'Grady  herself,  who 
was  now  as  pale  and  worn-looking  as  they  had 
been  used  to  see  hei;.  fat  and  rosy.  Yet  her 
welcome  was  as  kind  and  cordial  as  ever,  and, 
with  adroit  delicacy,  she  warded  off  all  allusion 

Willy  took  her  aside,  and  said  in  a  low  voice 
for  he  had  noticed  that  her  husband  was  but 
very  poorly  clad,  "  Now,  Mrs.  O'Grady  if 
you  can  make  any  use  at  all  of  my  father's 
clothes,  here's  the  key  of  the  chest ;  there's  a 
good  coat,  you  know,  and  a  good  pair  of 
trousers  m  It,  and  I  think  a  vest  too,  an'  they're 
all  too  big  for  either  Peter  or  me.  Don't  refuse 
to  take  them,  now  don't,  for  wouldn't  we  rather 
a  thousand  times  that  they'd  be  doin'  good  to 
somebody,  than  lyin'  there  moulderin'  away, 
as  they'll  soon  be."  ^ ' 

Mrs.  O'Grady  put  up  her  band,  and  wiped 
-^ ,j  ^^„^  ^^^jjj^  ^jjg  j^j-j^j^^-j^g  uown  ner 


that  times 
ly  woman 
[alien  into 
out  of  em- 
>pe  of  the 

0  to  sea. 

^hat  Mrs. 

3ukl  earn 

.  E  very- 
sad  evi- 
heartfclt 

ticed  the 
self,  who 
the}'  had 
Yet  her 
ver,  and, 

1  allusion 
however, 
)w  voice, 
was  but 
rady,    if 

father's 
there's  a 

pair  of 
*  they're 
't  refuse 
'e  rather 
good  to 
I*  awaj^, 

i  wiped 
own  her 


THE   lUISH  ORPHAN  IN  AMERICA.  147 

Cheek.  "  Well,  Gorl  bless  you  Willv  n„^ 
mark  j-ou  with  BTaf.r.  i  1 1-„  ''  '  "^"'J'  "M 
makes  yoH  sneak  thn    .       ""^  "f^'  ''®"  ^'"'' 

at  her  husband',  f  hi  Z^'"  ""''  "'«'  g''"'««'l 
'i,i  „      ""poanci  s  threadbare  ffarmentq      "  Tt 

with  n     •      \"''«'Mrs.  O'Grady,"  urged  Wilh- 
V  ith  a  y,ew  to  set  her  mi„d 'at  case    "Sn 

£me'of°ired5.^^""'^'""'^  ^°'''^  ^'"P- 

qui;Wy^Hb7t;!!;i"^'"  ««'<»  M--  O'Grady, 

about  that    didn°tlMr"'  "'^'  """'"''^  ''"^d 
her  death-bed  fhof  ?  ^    '  ^■°"""  P°°'"  ""Ot'ier  on 

owed  meP  rMav'th/T'^^'i'^  ''"'  "'"^  *"""  «>>« 
f«l  to  her'')  ^  So^  f  T  .^r"!  "  ^"^^  «"'  ««^^i- 
isn't  in  regard  of  tl^t  „  1  *'f  *"°*''^'  ™'"d  *' 
pressin'  oifme  to  nl.:.  t  V^*'"J''^  ^'"•''•^  «<> 
cause  W°Uv  "      h„     1  *''^*'  ""  '^^''''"se.  be- 

thpm  »      ci  "^^1^  noi  out  o   the  need  o* 

P.-omisi'rj  toTomet:;  ^at.  '''^''^-  *<'°"^*''-' 

Tafbot7w"erThetaw'  hT"'^"r"'  "^  '°  ^r. 

writing.     "  Micht  T  m.r  '''T','  ""^""Sed  in 

bot,"  laid  h„  r*/*."i^i'  '°  ^^^'  Mr.  Tal- 

,     CO  ov  uBit  you  to  let  me  have 


ii 


148 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


two  dollars  ?    That's  what  I'd  get  on  Saturday 
night,  sir." 

"Certain!}',  Willy,  joii  shall  have  it  with 
pleasure,"  said  Mr.  Talbot,  as  ho  looked  with 
surprise  on  Willy's  blushing  fav;e  and  down- 
cast eyes.  *'I  dare  say  j'ou  want  to  pay  for 
having  that  cross  put  up,  of  which  you  told 
me  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  sir !  it  isn't  that  at  all,"  returned 
Willy  Burke,  hastily.  "  We're  going  to  wait 
for  a  little  while,  till  we  have  more  mone}',  for 
Peter  has  none  at  all  now.  Oh,  no,  Mr.  Tal- 
bot !  I  wouldn't  on  an}-  account  ask  jou  for 
the  money  now,  only  I  want  it  for  them  that's 
in  distress,  sir,  an'  that  we  owe  it  to." 

"And  who  are  they,  Willy?"  Inquired  the 
merchant,  kindly.  So  Willy,'  thus  called  upon, 
told  how  his  mother  had  owed  Mrs.  O'Grady 
three  and  a  half  dollars  for  rent,  and  how  Mrs. 
O'Grady  had  refused  to  take  it  when  offered 
by  his  mother.  »^But  it's  not  the  same  now," 
said  Willy,  "for  poor  Mrs.  O'Grady  is  badly 
off  these  times ;  an'  so,  if  you'll  be  so  good, 
sir,  as  to  give  me  the  two  dollars,  I  can  put  it 
with  the  two  I  have,  an'  take  it  to  her.  I 
don't  want  to  touch  the  half-dollar  that  my 
sisters  gave  me,  until  it  goes  to  pay  for  the 
cross,  for  I'd  lilie  them  to  have  their  share 
in  it." 

"And  so  3-0U  are  willing  to  postpone  the 

nuttinS"    nn    of    that,    ornsa  "    an\A    ATr-  .  TolK/vf 

"  in  order  to  give  the  money  that  would  do  it 


>f 


THE    IRISH    OliPIlAN    IN   AMERICA.  149 

to  your  friend  Mrs.  O'Grady?  Well,  here  are 
the  two  dollars,  and  I  must  say  (althoucrh  not 
much  given  to  flatter  our  young  men)  that 
your  conduct  is  deserving  of  the  warmest  ap- 
proval." '^^ 

xv-u^y""  ^^,e  ^'«^y  good  to  say  so,  sir,"  was 
Willy  s  reply  ;  ''  and  I  hope  God  will  always 
give  me  grace  to  do  what  is  rio-ht  "  And 
pocketing  his  money  with  a  well-pleased  coun- 
tenance, he  moved  away.  Turning  back,  how- 
ever, he  asked  Mr.  Talbot  whether  he  mi<rlit 
take  time  in  the  course  of  the  evening  to'^o 
to  Mrs.  O'Grady's.  " That  is,"  said  he,  "if 
there  s  nothing  particular  for  me  to  do  •  be- 
cause if  there  is,  I  wouldn't  for  anything'  ask 
to  go.  *' 

"You  can  go  just  now,  Willy,"  said  Mr. 
Talbot,  "  and  if  Mr.  Weimar  asks  for  you,  I 
shall  answer  for  your  absence."  So  Willy 
thanked  him  again,  and  withdrew.     Hurryino- 

,  ?"^  J?;.,^^'^  ,'''^"^^  ^^  gratitude  and  friend" 
ship,  A\illy  Burke  speedily  reached  Mrs. 
O  Grady  s  dwelling,  and  found  her  alone  with 
her  husband,  who  was   now   unable  to  move 

i-T,,..n  ''^'''''"  ^^^^^o»t  assistance.  Scarcely 
did  Willy  wait  to  answer  the  good  woman's 
Iriendly  inquiries,  till,  pulling  out  his  little 
purse,  he  took  out  the  four  dollars  and  handed 
it  to  Mrs.  O'Gradv. 

^  "What's  this,  Willy?"  she  asked,  with  un- 
Aciguca  Surprise. 

"  Why,  it's  four  dollars  I've  brought  you," 


if 


a  i. 


150 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


was  the  quick  response,  "just  because  we  had 
it  to  spare,  thanks  be  to  God  for  it!  an'  I 
couldn't  rest  a  minute  since  I  saw  how  matters 
were  here,  till  I  came  with  it.  Take  it,  an' 
keep  it,  Mrs.  O'Grady,  dear,  for  it's  your  own  • 
an'  much  good  may  it  do  you  !  "        "      '  ' 

Mrs.  O'Grady  handed  the  bills  to  her  hus- 
band, saying,  "Look  there  Barney,  see  how 
good  an'  merciful  is  the  Lorl ! "  then,  while 
the  poor  man  sat  gazing  m  silence  on  tlie 
money  in  his  hand,  a  gratified  expression  rest- 
ing on  his  haggard  face,  she  turned  to  Willy, 
and  catching  both  his  hands  in  hers,  while  the 
tears  burst  forth  like  rain,  she  sunk  on  her 
knees  before  the  astonished  boy. 

"  Oh,  then,  may  the  great  an'  merciful  God 
restore  it  to  you  an'  yours,  a  hundred  times 
over,  Willy  Burke!  An'  it's  you  that  has 
earned  a  blessing  for  j'ourself  this  day,  for  we 
hadn't  bit  or  sup  in  the  house,  nor  didn't  know 
where  to  get  it ;  an'  that  poor,  sickly  man 
there,  was  just  faintin'  for  something  to  eat. 
All  the  money  we  could  raise,  aye,  every  cent, 
we  had  to  give  to  the  landlord  last  night,  for 
he  was  threatenin'  to  put  us  out  on  the^street, 
because  we  owed  him  so  much,  an'  weren't  able 
to  give  him  any  for  a  long  time  before.  The 
Lord's  blessin'  an'  mine  be  about  3-ou,  child ! 
An'  may  you  never  know  what  want  is,  I  pray 
God  an'  his  Blessed  Mother  this  day  !  " 

.    -"• '-^    "^»-   °^^j  ^^  iiuur  mure, 

but  It  may  well  be  believed  that  he  had  never 


»  ii 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA.  151 


ie  we  had 
it!  an'  I 
i  matters 
e  it,  an' 
3ur  own  J 

her  hus- 
see  how 
2n,  while 
J  on  the 
ion  rest- 
o  Willy, 
vhile  the 
on  her 

fill  God 
d  times 
hat  has 
',  for  we 
I't  know 
ly  man 
to  eat. 
rj'  cent, 
ght,  for 
i  street, 
n't  able 
3.  The 
,  child ! 
,  I  pray 


L'  iuore, 
i  never 


in  all  his  young  life  felt  so  happy  as  he  <Vii\ 
that  day.  A  thousand  times  during  the 
afternoon  and  evening  did  he  breathe  a  fer- 
vent thanksgiving  to  the  Lord,  for  having 
enabled  liim  to  assist  that  worthy  family  in 
their  great  distress.  Next  day  iie  took  oc- 
casion to  tell  ^^^^.  Talbot  of  the  timely  relief 
the  money  had  a;?irdod,  and  the  benevolent 
heart  of  thai  jc^ntie. aan  was  more  than  rejoiced 
b}'  the  news. 

The  six  wor  lig  days  passed  away,  and  Sun- 
day came  again.  Tl . ere  ho  1  fallen  some  heavy 
rain  during  the  nig' it  so  that  the  streets  were 
wet  and  muddy,  and  Willy  Burke,  when  he 
went  to  see  his  sisters,  did  not  ask  them  to  go 
to  walk  on  that  account.  But  in  the  evening, 
Peter  and  he  walked  towards  the  churchyard 
wherein  their  mother  lay.  They  were  just 
saying  as  they  reached  the  gate  that  it  was 
too  wet  for  them  to  go  in  through  the  long 
grass,  but  as  they  could  see  their  mother's 
grave  from  the  gate,  they  stopped  to  look  in. 
What  was  their  astonishment  (for  Willy  had 
told  his  brother,  as  we  have  seen,  that  thej- 
must  put  it  off  for  some  time)  when  they  saw, 
standing  at  the  head  of  the  grave,  a  handsome 
white  cross,  with  an  inscription  in  black,  but 
at  that  distance  they  could  not  see  what  it 
was. 

"Why  then,  Willy!"    cried    his    brother, 
cross  is?" 


152 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


It  IS  indeed,"  said  Willy,  "  an'  I  think  some 
one  must  have  mistaken  it  for  another :  let  us 
see  if  the  stone  I  stuck  into  the  ground  is  still 
there.      And  in  they  went,  but  they  had  no 
need  to  Jook  for  the  stone,  which  was,  however, 
there ;  for  as  they   approached  near  enough, 
the  inscription   caught  their  eye.     It  was  ~! 
"  Here  lies  the  body  of  Mrs.  Bridget  Burke,  a 
I  native  of    the    County    Tipperarv,    Ireland. 
While  here  on  earth,  she  served  the  Lord,  in 
spirit  and  in  truth.    May  her   soul  rest   in 
peace ! " 

"  Well,  tlianks  be  to  God,  anyhow,  that  we 
have  lived  to  see  that  sight !  »  was  Willy's 
exclamation,  when  they  had  for  some  minutes 
gazed  in  silent  amazement  on  the  handscno 
monumental  cross.  "Whoever  did  it,  may 
the  Lord  reward  them,  an*  he  will !  Can  you 
guess  who  it  was,  Peter?" 

"  Not  I,"  was  the  answer. 

'/  Well,  then,  I'm  not  so,"  said  Willy,  as, 
quitting  the  churchyard,  they  walked  awav 
together ;  "  but  I'll  say  nothing  about  it,  tUl 
I  see  whether  I'm  right  or  not." 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  153 


11 


CHAPTER    yill. 


PERSECUTION. 

*T\rHO  is  your  brother's  confessor  now,  or 
'  '  has  he  am%  do  you  know?"  inquired 
Father  Fitzherbert  of  Willy,  when,  on  the 
Saturday  preceding  the  first  Sunday  of  Au- 
gust, he  had  been  to  his  confession. 

"  Indeed,  sir,'*  said  Willy,  "  I*m  very  much 
afraid  he  doesn't  go  to  his  duty  at  all ;  and  I 
wanted  this  good  while  to^  speak  to  j'our  rev- 
erence about  him.  Every  time  I  call  for  him, 
when  I'm  coming  myself,  he's  sure  to  have 
some  excuse  ;  either  he  hasn't  time,  or  he  isn't 
prepared  to  go.  It's  no  use  my  telling  him 
that  he  ought  always  to  have  time  for  what 
concerns  his  soul ;  and  that,  as  for  preparing 
himself,  he  can  do  that  in  a  short  time,  even 
in  the  church,  while  he's  waiting,  if  he  only 
asks  God  to  give  him  the  proper  dispositions. 
He'll  always  put  me  off,  and  say,  '  Well,  I'll 
be  sure  to  be  ready  next  time,'  but  it's  the 
same  every  time  I  go,  so  I  don't  know  what's 
going  to  come  of  him,  sir." 


"   Aloa  I  "     ooirl    4K 


-TiuoL,  anvi  uc 


/"%     r'\ii*^r^c^ 


.J 


he  spoke,  "this  is  just  what  I  foresaw  and 


154 


WILLY  bukke;    or, 


111! 


dreaded.  Throwing  himself,  as  he  has  done 
exclusively  amongst  Protestants,  and  whUe 
Ins    mmd  was  still    but    imperfectly  irrW 

airheti/t^'n  "1*  a^f  Uol  J 
laitli,  he  will,  It  IS  to  be  feared,  eradnalh- 

become  mbued  with  the  sentiments  a^nd  S 

of  those  about  him.     His  position  is  indeed  a 

dangerous  one,  for  he  has  not  that  streneth  of 

,  mind  or  firmness  of  faith,  which  might  fecure 

him  from  the  assaults  of  the  tempter!" 

™,t  f  if  ^',*'™«  ■**'»".>•  saw  Father  Fitzherbert 
out  of  he  church  he  took  occasion  to  tell  Mm 
of  the  handsome  cross  which  some  unknown 
friend  had  placed  over  his  mother's  gram 

ti,  *  J-'  .  "''■*'''  ^'""°  suspicion  of  who  it  is 
that  did  It,  sir,"  said  Willy.  "  Excent  vo,  r 
re verence_  there's  only  another  that  I'd  Vhtak 

■mut:^':^  ^^:^'  ^^"^?"  *•>«  p-st 

"  Mr.  Talbot,  sir." 
wnf"'f,  ^"'^'""•'^ert  smiled  again.     "Well 

surmise.  I  have  some  reason  to  know  tiiat  it 
was  indeed  Mr.  Talbot  who  thus  testllied  his 
respect  for  a  true  Christian,  as  he  hacl  weU 
ascertn.ned  your  mother  to  have  been      He 

s"v    voir^m'/T'  *"•=  ^""'^  affair,- tltai  is  S 
sa^ ,  3  our  meritorious  project  of  having  thi, 
monument    erected,    and     your     <=H1    "JT 
laudable   disposal  of  the  mC;  ift  Ued  to 

put  It  in  fiYPr»nfm„      T  _,Mi -^    "^^^""ea  lo 

^^,.,„.     ^  „^^^  vuQtiire  to  tea  you 


THE   IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA,  155 

that  it  was  still  more  to  show  his  warm 
approval  of  jour  conduct,  than  throuc^h 
respect  for  your  mother's  memory-,  that  he  dkl 
this.  May  God  give  3'ou  the  grace,  dear 
child,  to  walk  firmly  and*^  steadily  in  the  path 
of  duty  !  "  ^1 

"  I  can't  go  astray,  sir,"  said  Willy  in  reply, 
*•  while  I  have  3'ou  to  guide  me." 

*'  Ah,  but  you  must  not  rely  too  much  on 
any  support  or  guidance  that  is  merely  human  ; 
learn  to  look  ever  for  supernatural  protection, 
and  for  the  strength  that  comes  from  above. 
The  time  is  already  near  when  3'ou  will  have 
me  no  longer ;  and  I  would,  therefore,  have 
your  course  plainly  marked  by  a  strong  and 
steadfast  will  ere  I  leave  you,  it  may  be  for- 
ever. I  am  even  now  on  the  eve  of  departing 
for  Ireland,  and  at  my  age  man  has  but  a 
frail  hold  on  life,  so  that  it  is  very  possible 
that  I  may  sink  into  the  gulf  of  eternity  ere 
we  meet  again." 

On  hearing  this  announcement,  the  tears, 
which  Willy  sought  not  to  repress,  burst  forth 
and  rolled  unheeded  from  his  e^^cs.  "Ah! 
but  Father  Fitzherbert,  dear,  what  will  I  do 
when  3'ou're  away,  even  if  God  spares  you  to 
come  back,  as  I  hope  he  will?  Who  will  be 
to  me  as  you  were,  and  to  us  all,  as  well  as 
mc?" 

"Shame,  Willy,  shame!"  said  the  priest, 
i,.,,.,.^-^.  ^^  „j^_  cvi-.iciitij  iuuiu  tuuii  a  Utile 
affected  by  the  lad's  artless  sorrow.    "Hav« 


:i 


i     1 


?|»  '  )J 


iflf 


'lu 


li 


156 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


you  not  still  the  right  hand  of  the  Lord  to 
guide  and  strengthen  you— even  of  him  from 
whom  I  derived,  and  do  derive,  my  streno-th 
and  consolation.  He  is  ever  the  same,  Wiffy ; 
and  let  who  may  leave,  or  who  remain  with 
you,  you  will  ever  find  him  a  tender  father, 
unless  you  turn  away  your  face  from  him,  and 
follow  the  gods  of  this  world.  And  then  you 
J  have  the  same  sacraments  to  nourish  and 
strengthen  you,— remember  that,  my  child,  and 
I  would  advise  you  to  choose  Father  O'Hara 
for  3^our  confessor  when  I  am  gone." 

Though  scarcely  able  to  articulate  a  word 
(his  heart  was  so  full),  yet  Willy  signified  his 
assent,  and  soon  after  Father  Fitzherbert  went 
away,  having    merely    called    to    see    Mrs 
Malcolm." 

No  sooner  had  the  priest  quitted  the  room 
—the  housekeeper  having  gone  to  her  kitchen— 
than  one  of  the  young  men,  who  chanced  to  be 
present,  addressed  Willy  Burke  in  a  contemp- 
tuous tone:  ''So  that's  your  father  con- 
fessor, eh  ?  " 

To  this  Willy  made  no  reply,  for  he  felt  lU 
full  force  of  the  bitter  irony  with  which  it  was 
said,  and  would  fain  ai)pear  not  to  have 
heard  it. 

"  I  say,  Burke,"  repeated  Wilson,  in  a  loud 
voice,  "ain't  that  your  confessor?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  short  reply;  and  Willy 
arose  to  leave  the  room. 

it  "wr^ii    i^  2.-L.  ^A.     '    t.  ...        _ 

?i  vii,  ii  wittc  am  i  a  good  joite,  I  know  not 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  157 


what  is  ;  "  and  the   speaker  burst  into  a  loud 
laugh. 

Will3^  Burke  turned  short  round,  and  his 
cheek,  with  its  crimson  hue,  betrayed  how 
keenly  lie  felt  the  insult.  ''  Why,  Mr.  Wilson, 
you  must  be  badly  off  this  evening  for  some- 
thing to  make  you  laugh.  I'd  thank  3-ou  to 
choose  some  other  subject  than  the  one  you're 
on,  for  if  3'ou  knew  but  all,  it  doesn't  become 
anybody  to  be  makin'  a  laugh  of  what  they 
know  nothing  about." 

*' There,  now,"  returned  the  other,  "there 
you  go  !  Now  what  have  I  said  to  make  you  so 
angry,  for  I  see  that  you  are  angry,  for  all  you 
don't  want  to  show  it.  Now,  I  just  put  the 
question  to  you  as  a  rational  being —  how  can 
such  an  old  coon  as  that  have  any  power  to 
forgive  sins?  Why,  you  Papists  are  the 
greatest  dupes  in  existence.  I  guess  it  would 
take  a  good  deal  to  make  me  bend  my  knee  to 
a  man  no  better  than  myself,  and  tell  him  all 
my  sins,  great  and  small.  And  then  the  best 
of  all  is,  his  pretending  to  forgive,  them,  as 
though  he  were  God  himself,  or  a  messenger 
from  him.  Now  how  can  you  bring  yourself 
to  believe  such  nonsense  ?  " 

*'So  long,"  replied  Willy,  "as  you  are 
pleased  to  speak  in  such  a  manner  of  the  doc- 
trines of  our  Church,  you'll  got  no  informatior;. 
from  me  ;  and  besides,  any  one  that  speaks 


O-i 


51  nrioaf.  na  i-rvn  A\A  n 


iVkl  1^  11 


J 


ing  of  an  answer  from  any  Catholic ;  so  if  you 


158 


"iVILLY    BUIUCE  ;     OR, 


want  me  to  reply  to  any  question  you  l^nt  to 
me,  you'll  nsk  it  in  a  different  manricr." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Tvilson,  assunung  ii 
gravity  which  the  mischievous  Iter  of  his  eye 
belied,  "I  would  fair*  know  what  certainty 
you  have,,  or  oan  have,  that  thi,^  priest  of 
yours— -I  beghis  pardon,  av;,d  3'onrs,  for  having 
applied  the  word  coon  to  bo  holy  a  man  —  5 
,,  really  jiuthorized  to  absolve   you   from  vour 


fiias?" 


deed.  ,\Ir.  Wilson,"  said  Willy  in  reply, 
*^I  '^)u"L  half  like  your  way  of  talking,  and^I 
have  a  great  mind  to  let  you  look  for  knowl- 
edge elsewhere.     At  any  rate,  f'll  just  answer 
yotir  last  question,  and  then  i'U  have  done. 
I'm  no  great  hand  at  quoting  Scripture,  so  I'll 
not  trouble  you  with  any  texts  to  prove  the 
power  left  with  the  priests,  but  I'll  just  tell 
you    that  I  believe   it  because    the   Church 
believes  it,  and   teaches   it   to   her   children. 
Anything  that  way  that  I  can't  understand,  I 
don't  dive  into  at  all,  because  I  am  not  able 
to  judge,  of  these   high   matters;  but  I  just 
believe  whatever  the  Church  proposes  to  me." 
"  More  fool  you,  then  !  "  exclaimed  Wilson 
quickly ;  "  for  what  you   call  the    Church   is 
nothing  more  than  a  collection  of  priests  and 
bishops,  as  far  as  I  can  understand,  and  of 
course  they  can  make  lust  such  laws  as  tend 
to  increase  their  own  power  ov  v  the  people. 
I  have   really  no  patience  wit       ach   stunid 


dupes 


's  you    and    your    pe«  ^e    are.    The 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  159 


» 


Church,  indeed!     What  nonsense  it  is,  talk- 
ing of  the  Church  in  such  a  way." 

Willy  Burke  laughed,  as  he  arose  to  leave 
the  room.  "  Why,  j-our  fun  is  all  turned  into 
anger,  Mr.  Wilson.  Now  I'd  just  advise  you, 
before  I  go,  not  to  be  attacking  me  any  more 
about  my  religion,  for  I  can  tell  you  that 
you*ll  make  nothing  of  it.  If  you'^were  to 
laugh  at  me  every  day  and  hour  that'll  come 
till  New- Year's  Day,  j-ou  wouldn't  make  me 
ashamed  of  doing  anything  that  the  Church 
commands  me  to  do.  Whatever  yow  Protes- 
tants may  think  or  say,  I'm  proud  and  happy 
that  God  has  given  me  grace  to  ^hear  the 
Church;  for  you  know  — you  that  talk  so 
much  about  reading  the  Bible  —  what  any  one 
is  to  be  considered  that  does  not.  You  go  on 
your  own  way,  then,  and  see  where  it'll  bring 
you  to ;  but  for  my  part,  I  don't  want  to  be 
regarded  as  either  '  a  Heathen '  ov  '  a  Publi- 
can; '  so  with  God's  help  I'll  alwaj's  listen  to 
the  voice  of  the  Church,  and  then  I  can't  be 
wrong.     Good-night,  Mr.  Wilson." 

An  insolent  laugh  was  the  onl}-  answer,  and 
Wilson  seemed  disposed  to  let  Willy  go,  with- 
out further  parley  ;  but  just  at  that  moment  the 
door-bell  rang,  announcing  some  of  the  young 
men,  and  Wilson  became  suddenly  desirous  of 
protracting  a  conversation  which  he  deemed 
capital   fun,  now  that  he  was  about  to  have 


■^\r   n  vui-a  iixji,  UUiy   JOIU  ill  lUe    laUgn 


raised  at  Burke's  expense,  but  would  furnish 


IGO 


WILLY   BLTIKE  ;     OR, 


their  quota  of  wit  and  sarcasm  on  the  ab- 
surdity of  the  Romish  doctrines. 

Willy  Burke  was  already  ascending  the  stairs, 
on  his  way  to  bed,  when  Wilson,  running  out 
of  the  sittmg-room,  called  after  him  at  the  top 
of  his  voice,  while  at  the  same  time  he  opened 
the  door  for  two  of  his  companions, 

; '  Hold  on  there,  Burke !  What  need  for  hur- 
r3^ing  so?  I  want  to  hear  something  more 
.about  confession  and  the  church.  You  talk  in 
a  first-rate  style ;  and,  by  George,  you  may 
make  a  convert  of  me." 

"I  don't  want  to  make  converts,"  responded 
Burke,  dryly  ;  "  and  if  you  wish  to  know  more 
about  the  things  you  speak  of  you  can  just  so 
to  the  priest,  an'  he'll  tell  you  all  about  it,  or 
If  ,>^u  like  it  better,  there's  Catechism  tauo^ht 
m  all  our  churches,  an'  you  have  only  to  sit  down 
quietly  an'  listen,  an'  you'll  hear  all  about  *  Con- 
fession, and  the  Church,'  as  you  say  yourself." 
1  he  laugh  was  now  fairly  turr.ed  against 
Wilson,  who  thus  fell  into  the  pit  he  had  him- 
self dug  for  another,  and  the  merriment  of 
Hamilton   and  Dawson  annoyed  him  beyond 
measure.     Muttering  between  his  teeth,  *'  I 
guess  I'll  be  even  with  him  one  of  these  davs," 
he  was  retreating  into  the  sitting-room,  amid 
the  continued  laughter  of  his  companions,  who 
Vi?    WM '  ^"O^eover,  with  such  questions  as, 
I  w^;,      ^®^"'  ^**®  y^^  going  to  the  priest,  eh  ?  " 
VViU  you  ask  his  reverence's  blessing?"  when 
sauuenij  Mrs.  Maluoim  s  shriii  voice  was  heard 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN  IN  AMERICA.         161 

from  the  further  end  of  the  passage,  aa  she 

'"^f  x5l^  5^^  *^^  ^«^«r  regions  :      ^  '     '  '^"^ 

"  yiif  t's  all  this  clatter  about,  or  are  von 

loo's  ?>"    ""'   ^"^^    «^^-«'  3^    gra'eC 

f nn^''  ^/^"°^  ^^"^  ^^^^^'  t^e  three  vounff  men 

r^t  o/Tni"  S'  f  ,^^^g---^'  butWg^he 
light  of  Willy  Burke's  candle  as  he  hastened 

stenSed'a^HtSr  ^^'''fu'''  ^^^  ^-^-oom,  she 
stepped  a  little  way  up  the  stairs  to  see  who  it 

Tlone        ""'""  ''^^  ^  ^''^'  '^"^^^  *^  fi»d  him 
"  Why,  Gad's  sake,  Willy  Burke ! »  she  cried 
sharply,  -  what  ha'  you  been  doin'  to  mak  sic 

to?    What's  come  o'er  ve  a'  thp  nio-hV  ^ 
bod,^  would  think  youU  1  l^'SlZ^ 
the  house  among  j^ou ! " 

nt  Ti!i^^'  ''''"^'^  T'^y  ^^""^  j"«*ified  himself,  and 
at  the   same  time    excited    Mrs.   Malcolm's 

Sot^ "T  "^"r;  '"*  ^^  remembered  "he 
precept,  *^  Z>o  good  for  evil,'*  and  that  other 

resisted  the  temptation.  "  I  hope  you'll  for 
give  us  for  this  time,  Mrs.  Malcolm,''  he    -^ 

IS  mine  and  I  beg  your  pardon,  for  I  know 
very  well  that  you  don't  like  to  hear  any  nSZ 
or  disturbance  in  the  house."  ^ 

Little  flirl   crrxrJi   TiiT^^     Tkr-r  -     i 

i.^  1  V  &•-•-"-»  ^^xio.  iiiiiicoim  suspect  what 

had  beensroing  forward;  but  even  w 


:  i 


11 


was, 


im 


WILLY   BURK^;    OR, 


IS*  it 


p>b<-  could  fully  appreciate  Willy's  conduct. 
*'  Well,  well,  ye'rc  a  guid  laddie,  there  ^  no 
denyin'  it ;  awa'  wi'  you  to  bed,  but  dinna 
raise  sic  laughing  ony  more,  wi'  j^our  jokes." 
Willy  lost  no  tiu.o  in  gaining  his  quiet  little 
room,  and  the  housekeeper  returned  to  her 
Rosary,  which  had  been  interrupted  by  the 
obstreperous  mirth  of  the  young  men. 

"What  the  devil  did  he  say  to  her?"  said 
Hamilton  to  his  friends,  after  a  pause  of  rather 
anxious  expectation.  *'  I  was  expecting  every 
moment  a  full  broadside  of  wrath  from  the  old 
hag,  and  there  she's  gone  down  to  the  kitchen 
again,  without  saying  an  angiy  word.  Do  you 
think  he  told  what  you  said  V  " 

*'I  don't  know,  nor  neither  do  I  care," 
returned  Wilson  doggedly  ;  "but  w^ic^ther  he 
did  or  did  not,  I'll  keep  his  impudence  in  mind 
till  I  have  a  chance  of  aying  him  home  ;  that 
I  will,  or  lay  name  is  not  Grorge  Wilson." 

"  Well  now,  after  all,  George,"  said  Daw- 
son, who  ha'  not  \  et  spoken  since  he  had 
h'jard  Wilson  s  account  of  his  con  Tsation 
with  Willy,  "  after  all,  it  really  does  appear  to 
m:  Ci.at  Burke  [s  the  pt.  ty  aggrieved,  not  you. 
By  your  own  ackncwledgme':!!,  it  was  you  who 
attacked  him^  ad  you  might  ha^  e  known, 
before  to-r'crht,  -  hat  ht  is  exceeo  ugly  ensitive 
in  all  that  ep  ds  his  reL  ^ion.  Now,  as  for 
me,  Tm  wi  .in^  *o  acknowle  Isre  merit  even  in  a 
Catholic ;  and  I  do  confess  i.it  I  admire  the 
lad's  steadiness  of  principle,  and  nis  immovable 


conduct. 

ere  a  no 

it  dinna 
jokes." 

;et  little 
to  her 
by  ilie 

?"  said 
»f  rather 
ig  every 
I  the  old 
kitchen 
Do  you 

care,*' 
^ther  he 
in  mind 
e ;  that 
on." 
d  Daw- 
he  had 
Tsation 
►pear  to 
lot  you. 
ou  who 
known, 
3nsitive 
,  as  fur 
/en  in  a 
lire  the 
lovable 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  1G3 

attachment  to  the  faith  lie  professes.  An  >ther 
thing  that  strikes  me  just  now,  is  his  not 
havnig  told  Mrs.  Malcolm  of  what  passed 
between  you  for  you  know  as  well  as  I  do, 
that,  rigid  Catholic  us  she  is,  nothing  could 
have  palliated  your  offence  in  her  e/es,  had 
she  known  anything  of  it.  I  must  say,  that 
this  same  Wil  y  Burke  makes  me  think  better 
than  I  dido  Papists.  And  then,  Mr.  Talbot, 
ihhZm^^  ^^e  amongst  us  can  find  any  fuult 

"  Why,  you  had  better  turn  Papist  yourself 
Dawson,"  said  Wilson,  with  a  sneer,  "  since  voJ 
seem  to  have  such  a  leaning  towards  them "  I 
suppose  we'll  have  you  going  to  confession 
some  of  these  da3-s." 

"  And  if  I  did,"  replied  Dawson,  with  a 
heavy  sigh,  '^  I  might  lead  a  far  difforent  life." 
ho  saying,  he  took  his  candle  and  bade  the 
others  "good-night,"  leaving  them  to  interpret 
iii.s  words  as  they  best  could. 

Leaving  Willy  Burke  enjoying  the  calm 
repose  of  an  untroubled  conscience,  let  us  turn 
for  a  httl  hile  to  his  brothei  horn  we  have, 
perchance,  too  long  neglected. 

Mrs.  Wa  I  ins,  as  well  as  her  husband,  had 
ciuicky  discovered  the  natural  ^veakness  of 
leters  understanding,  together  with  that 
pliancy  of  mind  which  n^ade  him  pecu  iarlv 
open  to  persuasion,  particularly  if  it  addressed 

irSPlr      frk     Vila      irnrii'f..        ..        .' ^K      __  ,,       -    . 

.,: '  ;"-^itj,   i^:n:u  was,  aiier  aJl,  iiis 

prevailing    o.ble.     air t.  illy   and    insidiously 


:; 


I 


i#  ^      VA 


I 


1C4 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


had  they  worked  upon  this  strong  character- 
is+ic  of  his,  until  they  got  him  persuaded  that 
It  was  actually  degrading  for  a  young  lad  like 
him  to  be  so  entirely  under  the  control  of  a 
priest,  "  a  mere  mortal  like  himself."    And  then 
confession  !    Why,  in  the  name  of  everythino- 
reasonable,  how  could  one   man  expect  that 
another  had  power  to  forgive  his  sins?  did  not 
that  belong  to   God  alone?    and  if  h    gave 
such    authority  to    another,    to   one    of   his 
creatures,  would  it  not  be  making  that  creature 
like  unto  himself  in  power?     "  Do  you  not  re- 
member, Peter,"  would  the  lady  or  gentleman 
add,  ^*'how  God  had  styled  himself  '  a  Jealous 
trod,  and  as  such,  think  you  he  would  invest 
these  priests  of  the  Romish  Church,  one  and 
all,  with  one  of  his  own  divinest  attributes? 
No,  no !     Impossible  !    Absurd  I  " 

Alas  for  poor  Peter !  all  unmeet  was  he  to 
wrestle  with  the  tempter.  It  was  not  for  him, 
Ignorant  as  his  mind  was  concerning  ^Uhe 
faith  delivered  to  the  saints,"  and  being  unable 
to  detect  the  misrepresentation  and  the  (per- 
haps wilful)  perversion  of  the  sacred  text,  he 
knew  not  what  to  say.  Fain  would  he  have 
stood  up  for  the  faith  of  his  fati  :  rs,  the  faith 
(if  such  it  might  be  called)  of  his  own  earlier 
years,  but  he  knew  not  how  to  defend  it.  He 
had  voluntarily  thrown  himself  into  tempta- 
tion, and  the  armor  that  might  have  enabled 
him  to  resist  its  attack,  was  no  longer  his. 
riis  faith,  alas  1  was  weak  and  tottering,  his 


il!Si 


haracter- 
ded  that 

lad  like 
trol  of  a 
\nd  then 
erything 
)ect  that 
'  did  not 
hi'  gave 
of  his 
creature 
11  not  re- 
sntleman 

jealous 
id  invest 
one  and 
ributes  ? 

IS  he  to 
for  him, 
ig  ''Hhe 
:  unable 
le  (per- 
text,  he 
he  have 
he  faith 
I  earlier 
it.  He 
tempta- 
enabled 
Cer  his, 
ing,  his 


THE  iniSII   OBPIIAS  IX   AMKP.ICA.         1G5 

l^^lt  ^cfling  strong,  and  he  fell  by  de-jrees 
into  the  pit  prepared  for  him.  Yet  not  all  at 
once  was  wrought  the  dread  change.  Durin* 
manr  a  hard  encounter  with  the  united  forces 

^onn7".r"^''''*''-'l<""'«''™'-«'l  t°  keep  his 
ground,  clinging  with  almost  desperate  fond- 
ness to  the  old  tree  which  had  iheltereU  his 

wHh  bitf:rh''"'"r°"'*'  "">"•  ''"''  «''""king 

Tn  anostlTp  "'"?  ^'""^  ^^^  ''"'"'  "^  b^cominf 
an  apostate, —a  turn-coat,  as  he  said  to  himself 

But  he  sought  not  strength  from  above  •  he 

he  believed  his  immovable  resolution.  But  at 
Z^L'^^'^t  ti'e  assailants  waxed  stronger 

merits  (as  they  chose  to  style  their  black 
calumnies  against  the  Church  of  God,  and 
their  absurd  distortions  of  Scriptural  te^?") 

Srtr^ber"'-''  ''"•^"  "''^'^  "^^^  farther-^ 
Win'  ^?°<'""'?g  «^er  weaker  and  more  waver- 

eafiirfor^Ler'""''"     '^"^  -»-<!-''-  » 
Meanwhile  it  wlU  be  remembered  how  fruit- 
less were  his  brother's  attempts  to  induce  him 
to   approach   the   sacraments.     Thus  did  h^ 

o?t°«t"'f.  ''^''°*  Wmself  from-those  channels 
of  grace,  those  sources  of  living  water,  o'>ened 

of  hk  eh  ,^'"'*''l^  ^"^  """^"^  ^"1  «"roort 
of  his  childrei!  while  on  their  toilsome  heaven- 
ward journey.     Little   did   WlUv  Burke  In". 

S."*"^"*  ."^  .*•*  sorrowfully  complained'lo 
lather  Fitzherbert  of  his  brother's  strange 


r 
t 


« 


I 


i 


1G6 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


indifference  to  the  affairs  of  his  soul,  that 
already  was  that  brother  more  than  a  little 
advanced  on  the  road  of  error,  and  that  the 
germ  of  faith  could  no  longer  be  said  to  exist 
within  him. 

Nay,  so  far  had  he  alread}^  gone  in  the  w^ay 
of  sin  and  error,  that  after  each  of  these  un- 
successful attempts  of  his  brother,  he  went 
straight  to  Mr.  or  Mrs.  Watkins  to  boast  of 
having  "  got  rid  of  that  troublesome  Willy  "  ; 
and  he  was  sure  to  be  rewarded  bj^  some 
handsome  present,  and  some  still  handsomer 
compliment.  "  I  really  do  begin  to  have  hopes 
of  you,  my  dear  boy  !  "  said  the  lady,-on  one 
of  these  occasions  ;  "  and  I  have  no  doubt  but 
you  will  soon  get  over  these  silly  prejudices. 
Then,  and  then  only,  you  will  become  a  trul}' 
rational  being,  and  fit  to  make  your  way  in 
the  world.  If  you  could  once  bring  j'ourself 
to  tell  this  brother  of  j^ours  that  you  will  not 
be  hoodwinked  by  the  priests  any  longer,  —  un- 
til you  can  do  that,  he  will  be  alwaj^s  teasing  you 
about  these  foolish  ceremonies  and  practices 
of  superstition." 

On  another  occasion  she  said  to  him,  "  What 
do  you  think  that  elegant  Mr.  Mortimer  said 
of  you  last  evening? "  (Now  this  Mr.  Morti- 
mer was  a  ranting  Methodist  preacher.) 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,  ma'am,"  said  Peter, 
raising  his  large  eyes  to  the  lady's  face  with  a 


•^•'■J    5 


u 


!.v|j-w     iv    TT  s^au.  s 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AitfERlCA. 


167 


anj'thing  bad,  for  he's  a  ver}'  nice  man,  alto- 
gether, and  speaks  so  beautifull}'." 

"  Bad  !  "  repeated  Mrs.  Watkins,  emphat- 
ically, "  no  indeed,  Peter ;  no  such  thing  I  lie 
said  jou  were  born  for  a  shining  light,  and 
that  he  was  sure  you  would  one  day  make  a 
stir  in  the  world  ;  he  could  not  help  expressing 
his  wonder,  dear,  good  man,  that  such  a  bo}- 
as  3'^ou,  so  clear-sighted  and  acute  in  your  pen- 
etration, could  have  been  kept  so  long  in  the 
trammels  of  Popery ! " 

Peter  listened  with  a  glowing  cheek  and  a 
kindling  eye  ;  his  heart  throbbed  wildly  against 
his  side,  and  the  unholy  thrill  of  gratified  van- 
it}'  ran  like  fire  through  his  veins.  "Well, 
ma'am,"  he  said,  "  I  can  only  say  that  it's  very 
good  of  Mr.  Mortimer  to  speak  so  kindly  of 
me,  and  Pm  sure  Pll  do  all  I  can  to  deserve  his 
good  opinion,  and  yours  too,  ma'am  !  "  So  he 
hastily  left  the  room,  to  indulge  his  pleasurable 
emotion  in  private.  Mrs.  Watkins  looked 
after  her  dupe  with  a  smile  of  triumphant 
meaning,  as  she  murmured,  half  aloud :  "  One 
brand  snatched  from  the  burning !  This  is 
well,  and  as  it  should  be." 

It  was  the  Saturdaj'^  evening  after  the  con- 
versation with  Wilson,  and  some  three  or  four 
weeks  after  the  discovery  of  the  cross.  Al- 
though we  have  seen  that,  from  the  first,  vV  illy 
had   suspected  that  Mr.  Talbot  was  the  un- 

markable  that  he  never  breathed  a  word  of  the 


■  n 


168 


WiLIrT  BURKE  ;'  OR, 


matter  fo  that  gentleman.  Week  after  vrooh 
he  had  received  and  pocketed  his  wages  ^tt 
out  as  much  as  thanking  him  whom  he  wo  I 


Woo  -4.  x,    :  ,      ^"^"v;'^  m»  warmest 

Was  It  that  he  had  forgotten   it?    Not   so 

On  the  evening  to  which  I  have  alluderf   h» 
waited  in  the  office  till  all  the  oLr"  had  r^ 
.   tired  ;  when,  approaching  Mr.  Talbot,  who  stm 
remained  at  his  desk,  he  said : 

"  May  I  spealc  a  few  words  to  you,  Mr  Tal- 
bot, if  you  please?"  •'     '  "■' 

if  you  wm7'  ^°"  '^*''  ^"""'i- '  '"^^ » '>""^'^«'. 

nnl^^f'i  u""'  ^  '"PPOse  you  thought  me  verv 

Kw"'™  "?'"  ^  f  ^"^  <=»'"''  to  thank  ^^^ 
tor  what  you  have  <]one  for  us  all  of  late" 
Then  seeing  that  Mr.  Talbot  looked,  or  airected 
to  look  surprised,  he  added :  "  You  know  verv 
well  what  I  mean,  sir, -the  beautiful  cross 
that  you  got  put  up  over  my  mother's  grav;!" 
What  reason  have  you  to  attribute  its  ereo 
tion  to  me,  Willy?"  asU  the  merchant  wUh" 

.  "  Oh,  sir  I  "  replied  Willy,  with  aU  that  o-en- 
iTh  h^^  t^t  belongs  toUe  nnsopMsticS 
Irish  heart,  "oh,  sir,  it  wasn't  very  hard  for 
me  to  guess  who  did  it.  There  was  only  you  and 
Father  Fitzherbert  to  do  it,  and  I  knew  that 
his  reverence  hadn't  the  means,  though  hey 
have  the  heart,  God  forever  bles^  him  !    s.  t 


THE   HUSH   ORPHAN   m   AMERICA. 


flno«f  °  •"       ""^i-jtiu  lam  outon  it.   Ihavon'f 

-  putting  It  on  the  desk  as  he  spoke      « If  if 

cost  any  more  than  that,  Mr  Talhnf  T  „ 

you  when  I  earn  it."  '  ^  ''^"  P^^ 

Here  Mr.  Talbot  affected   fn  i,„  • 

degree  offended,  though  in  Ms  W  J"  '""?! 

not  but  approve'of  thrboy's  concW    "'T^'} 

3r  V  r^^'f  "^  *»''«  Vour  money"  Wilh-  ^do 

Ct  on  V    V     7"J''  ""^^''t'^or  cancel  tt'ob° 

Hniri'f  «/  •    1    i^^",^^*^"»  irom  an  overweenino- 

"  >ou  speak  that  way  you'll  hrmt  m„  i,„    * 
you  will  indeed,  sir !    Oh   „„  ,    tu"^  *"•""■'' 
well  that  no  money  can  eWr  pa,  tbriJ'T 

^fra^llTrBTea„tlrn:^;i;t'i 
tliat  I  may  never  die  till  TMl  h^iui^L  FJ^l 


170 


WILLT  BUKKE:    08, 


you  that  Via  not  unthankful.     Do,  sir,  please 
take  the  money !  "  '  P'®^™ 

"  No  WiUy  that  I  will  not !  "_  and  Mr.  Tal-' 
bot  as  he  spoke,  could  scarcely  preserve  a  show 
of  composure.  "  Since  I  must  acknowS 
that  your  suspicions  are  well  founded,  I  have 
only  to  say  that  the  few  dollars  which  I  «! 
pcnded  on  that  monument  have  procured  mo 

enced.  The  act  was  purely  spontaneous  and 
done  without  the  slightest  thought  of  ever 
being  repaid, -my  intention  being  to  testis 
my  sincere  respect  for  the  humble  yet  distin- 
guished virtues  of  your  departed  parent,  white 
at  the  same  time  I  had  no  objection  to  gratifv 

ml  placed  over  her  remains.  Keep  the  monev 
Willy,  and  put  it  to  whatsoever  use  you  please' 
lam  qmte  sure  it  will  be  well  laid  out.  There 
-no  more  thanks,  I  anticipate  all  you  would 
saj.  tio,  now,  and  remember  that  vou  will 
never  want  a  friend  while  I  live  " 
"May  the  Lord  bless  you,  sir !  "  murmured 

W  t^h?7''''  ''I  ^t  '"**  *"«  "ffl^o-     0»  reach- 
ing the  house,  he  found  several  of  the  youns 

men  assembled,  waiting  the  appearance  of 
supper,  but  Mrs.  Malcolm  was  not  in  the  eal 
ing-room  Many  a  significant  glance  was  ex- 
changed between  them  as  Willy  entered  and 
his  cheerful  greeting  was  only^answe'ed  bj 

Wiii  ^°T.  """^  ^"^^"^  '"'^^^-  Of  late,  poor 
Willy  hiid  been  well  aoou8ton.<,rI  f^  «.,„!,'."„"" 


THE  IRISH  ORPHAN  IN  AMERICA.         171 

ment ;  and  now,  pretending  not  to  notice  it,  he 
took  a  small  book  from  his  pocket,  and  sat 
down  near  a  window. 

"  Pray,»Master  William,  of  what  nature  mav 
yonr  stndies  be?  "  called  ^ut  one  from  an  op- 
posite corner  of  the  room.     "Piety  a<rain    T 

round.'"  ^"^  ^'^  ""*""^  ^^"""^  was  echoed'all 

his  bJok!°°'  '"      '^■'  "■"'''"=  ^'^  "y^^  f™« 

"  ^-y^'i'  ^°°'^  "*'^'"  said  Wilson,  "  I  sup- 
pose Mr  Talbot  gave  it  to  you  as  a  riwardZ 

ifw'L,i"?^''/'.',°"'^''J"«*'""^-     You  earned 
It  well,  I  reckon. 

"  V*?"?:''*  .Voa  said  that  j-ou  never  carried 

fZ"  *°5i^-  '^""''J*'  ^•^- "  '''^^  ano<;.3r,   eer- 

den^;.  t^r  Tf'V'""^y°''  °»t ;  there's  no 
aen}  mg  it  this  time." 

Willy    Burke    smiled;    for  he  was    much 
amused  to  see  the  general  attack  made  upon 

u  w'ni?"  K^  ^^^^^^  '^  ^^'  ^^^^  «f  the  mark. 

.  ^     '  i^  i^'?'  '"^  ^  J^^^lar  tone,  "I  have 

read  m  the  Fairy  Tales  a  story  of' a  man  ^ 
Fine-ear  they  called  him  -  that  could  hear  the 

grass  growing ;  but  if  any  of  you  heard  me 
ellmgMr  Talbot  stories,  I  declare  you  be^t 
F^ne-ear'  out  and  out,  for  I  never  said  one 

w<3^u  ;  aout  any  of  you.     And  then  you^re  all 

S'r!'  "'t^^Jf'u    !^"   ""^  ""^^^^^^   the  book,   for 
r  atlicr  Fitzherbert  i^av^  it  f- 

last  St.  Patrick's  Day." 


yn 


«-w«  ^^      ^^  .»     .^     - 


iiiv..     U5   ik  pFcSCuC 


172 


WILLY  buhke;   or, 


On  hearing  this  —  and  Willv's  honest  fen 
tures  declared  that  he  spoke  the  simple  truth  _ 
his   adversaries  were  somewhat  SsconcertcJ 

crimson.     But  they  would  not  so  easily-  submit 
as  vanquished,  and  two  or  three  askedTnTho 

x:  th'^'tin':'^'''*  "'^f''  ^■°"  ^^'^-'^ 

mv  didn°;  l^      f  '"^'■^  '"  ^""^  '•>!«  evening? 
>v  I  y  dKln  t  you  clear  out  when  we  did  ?    Hi ' 

theU°"n7d^^"^  ^''"^'"^  °'  ^•"•"^g.  no^  - 
mat!)!^     """^'"^  '"""  ^'^   ^''^  ourselv-es. 

Henrv  n„^-  "  ^'^^  *?  "''>'  *«  ^'^  Talbot?  fo^ 
Henr>  Davis,  as  he  closed  the  door,  heard  you 
ask  If  you  might  speak  a  few  words."  "* 

tremtr  in"*  *?'»*'".  «^'"  Willy,  with  a  Might 
tremor  m  his  voice,  that  to  his  preiudiled 
listeners   seemed  confusion,  '<  as  to  that    if« 

^indt^rr" ';"  ™^  °""'  -*°  ^^^^-- 

mma  to  tell  you.  I  never  pry  into  anv  oHia- 
one's  affairs,  and  it's  too  bad  that  you're  all  so 
inquisitive  about  mine."  •■ .) «« -  e  an  so 

"  Ay,  there  it  is !  "  shouted  several  of  the 

ITZ^T^'I"  "  *°"«  of  exultation.     "  I  Lew 

word  for  himself  now.     Ain't  he  a  pretty  lad 
to  have  amongst  us  ?    Ain't  he  now  ? ''      ^ 
Here  Saunders,  who  had  taken  no  part  in  the 

CrT^^"  ^'r,  *'"'  "•'o'^  -hi^ch  hrhad 
Deen   reading,   and   demanded   what    all  this 

meant.  On  being  told,  he  sternly  ordered  the 
young  men  to  desist  from  their  attack  ''I 
beheve  Willy  Burke."  said  he  "  ■    •     ■ 

-  i 


H  4-^  V.^   i. 


'%/    i.tHL\.U,yu,UlM 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  173 

Of  such  mean  tattlin^r  as  von  In,,  f^  i  •     i. 

I,  for  one,  have  been   Jvpn  ?       ^'' ''^^'^^• 

authority  over  him  anH  f'^      Tr    ^^^^^  <'^ 

no  more  of  this  or  T  ,i  oii  V,   ^u,"'    ,       '"*'  ^car 
the  gentleman  r,A  '  f*?  "''''S*'' '"  acquaint 

orphan  ad  "    T)  •'".?'"  ""'"'«l"es8  towards  this 

the  Tuesd!v  follo^r    "''•"f""'"  ^"«  "^^-J  <•<"• 
Burke  Sltt'M^\^;'''°-Sund^ 

Peter  would  not  „^  „"i  ,  •  ^  *<>  ifow  whether 

Tat:  rtr/ir  ""^^  "ot'e:;::j^d-t^i 

fPPointed,  but  h^^TulkeX/tuhrtVat 
mg  any  remark  to  the  Bt^rvZtZT  \  ^"■'^' 
to  Mrs.  Williams's  to  t„t!i:-''.'^*"'  »«^ 

eider.       ''I'm    SlirP   ^'r.n'7^     i-    --;        asaeu    uiG 

xm  sure  >oure  always  thinking  of 


174 


WILLY  bukke;   or, 


bv^'llf  tllT  *?°'J  ^^  ""'«'«  to  l^id  "good- 
DJ      to  the  priest,  and  reeeivp  hla  „„-*^ 

benediction.     The  tpar,  <.t^„?. '    >.•        P^'^t'^g 
w.ti,      TT-;  ,  tears  stood  in  his  eves  when 

Father  F.tzherbert  asked  for  Peter      wTlw 
could  scarcely  command  his  voice  to  ielltS 
he  wasn'   m  when  he  called  for  him  Zl  fh' 
priest  only  shook  his  head,  for  he  s^  f  h„l  It 
boy  was  only  too  sensil^e  of  his  brothei^s  V.n' 

s.""V:r'ix  "?h""'  TT^ »"- 

inn-  f^  ,  '  ^®'     -^^  ^^ve  a  book  belong- 

ing to  your  reverence  -it's  the  m.tnJ^^^^. 


THE   IRISH   OEPHAK  IN  AMERICA.         175 

Church,  sir— ana  I  didn't  brin?  it  with  m^ 
because  I  wanted  to  see  your  rfyovcZok^f^ 
before  j-ou  go."    Having' received  a  kTndfnd 
cordm  consent,  Willy  made  his  best  bow,  and 

retired         *^"'  '"^'''  '=°'^'=^>-'  ""I  ^^^^^ 
On  the  following  evening,  punctual  to  h!« 

lound  lather  litzherbert  alone,  porino-  over 

om  man,  with  a  benignant  smile,   «  you  arp 
come  to  spend  the  last  evening  with  the  oW 
pnest.    I  expect  Mr.  Talbot  h?re  by  and  by 
asjie  was    good    enough   to   say  L  7ouId 

"Then  I  mast  hurry  and  tell  your  reverence 

iTke  MrTalh^r':  f  1^^%  '  "I  wZd^ 
iiKe  Mr.  Talbot  to  hear  me.      First,  there's 

your  book,  sir,  and  I'm  forever  obliged  to  ™u 

not  only  for  it,  but  for  all  the  fine  tt  ev"; 

you  lent  nie."    He  laid  the  book  on  the  taW  ' 

and  then  drawmg  from  the  pocket  of  his  over! 

coat  a  small  parcel,  he  opened  it  quickly,  Iwl 

disclosed  a  very  beautiful  silver  cmciflx,  some 

five  or  si.^  inches  long.    This,  sir,"  saidTe 

t^  .'"'^rP";^"^"'  *'•'"  I  ^o"W  wish  to  send 
to  J  ather  Maloney,  for  you  said  you  hoped  to 

'"'  Ir;  -J"'"'^^  ^'  S'^  ^-o-gh  to  teU  him 
sir,  that  It  was  Andy  Burke's  children  senU^ 

sL;  C IV^'jf "  "^ ''"'''  g.-atitude,\rd'to 
snow  liim  that  thov  havpn'f  fr.,.a.^f4«^  l,-.„  „ 

.  "But,  Willy,"  said  t^-pri|^-.ti";;;^„i^ 


■^>' 


176 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


rather  tell  my  old  friend  that  it  was  yourself 

jjt.  u  lorget  Jimi  any  more  than  ua      Oh   ■>,% 

'  Andy  Burke's  children.'"  •*  ^' 

"  )^ell,  well,"  said  the  good  criesf  « hn 
was  in  reality  much  gratifled°u  the  relit  o? 
l"s  own  question,  "I'll  say  whatever  vm.  liBh 

tins  18,  even  apart  from  its  religious  value 
the  workmanship  is  exquisite."   ^""^  "''"«- 

whit  iz  fhoufht  o/  r^^w  "^f  •  *'"  ^'^  «^ 

FatherWSrt  ? -'for' heT^w  thi^l'h*^''*-  "^ 
"f  J  ou  had  seen  the  little  cirls  wh^n  T  t^M 
-'"yltal's  1"*^-^  cloin^gHith  th^i^n^y 

I  confess  myself  unwilling  to  reS  so  ^^J 


THE    IKI8H    ORPHAN    IN    AMBUICA.  177 

a  present  from  you  friendless  o/phans  R.if 
I  well  know  the  pleasure  3  ou  hav;^„  ^?;i„i^^,^ 
and  I  cannoL  ])rino'  mvsplf  tr.  ;„«  I  ^^^*"o  ^^^ 
thp  tiair.  ^4^  J-  "^  "^}^eii  to  inflict  upon  vo  1 
uS.?"  ?^  "^  disaiipointment."  ^       ^ 

3^our  reverenpp   V\i  h       *''*»vor.       And  now, 

school-master,  sir,  Mu.ter  Do<rhertv  -  Pathir 
Maloney  will  have  him  come°to  see    vou 
and  I  want  to  send  him  this  prayer-Ck      It"^ 

"  Oh  then,  your  reverence,  just  eive  me  vn..r 
blessmg,  and  I'll  be  off  before  he  gerin   '• 

he'm'e eSto«  T^'^iV'^'  ---^^^  "-• 
;     'necKij.   bowed  his  head  and  receivpH  fhl 

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178 


WILLY    BURKK  :    OR, 


CHAPTER  IX. 


WILLY  BEGINS  TO  FIND  FAVOR  IN  MR.  WEIMAR's 

SIGHT. 

TpATHER  FITZHERBERT  was  gone,  and 
-^       Willy  Buike  sadly  felt  that  he  had  lost 
a  second  father .  Aye, "  lost,"  said  he  to  himself, 
"for  sure  he  looked  like  a  corpse  for  some 
time  past,  and  then  when  the  doctors  ordered 
him  to  go  to  Ireland  for  the  good  of  his  health, 
they  must  have  thought  him  far  gone  ;  —  lost  he 
is  to  me,  then,  I'm   afraid,    and  that's    the 
heavy  loss  all  out ;  for  who  will  advise  me,  and 
take  the  same  trouble  with  me  that  he  did  ? 
Father  OHara,  God  bless  him  1  seems  just  as 
kind  and  as  fatherly,  but  he  doesn't  know  us 
as  poor  Father  Fitzherbert  did,  nor  he  can't 
speak  to  us  of  our  mother,  and  put  us  in  mind 
of  following   her   example.    Well,  well,    it's 
God's  will,  I  see,  that  we're  to  be  left  altogether 
to  ourselves,'  and  sure  we  have  him  always  to 
look  to  for  comfort  and  support,  so  all  we  have 
to  do  is  to  keep    his   commandments  before 
our  eyes,  and  apply  to  him  when  any  trouble 
comes  upon  us;  there's  no  use    in  grievinff 


m  IXCLU 


be  helped,  and  besides,  it's 


«rEIMAB*S 


one,  and 
had  lost 
•  himself, 
br  some 

ordered 
3  health, 
-  lost  he 
at's  the 
me,  and 

he  did  ? 
i  just  as 
know  us 
he  can't 
in  mind 
ell,  it's 
together 
ways  to 
we  have 
I  before 

trouble 
sieving 
les,  it's 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.         179 

Sinful;  it's  like' rebelling  against  God's  holy 
will.     Courage,   then!"    And    thus    did    hi 

Tnf  hTmUf   T.r  "^"^  ""''  madness,  Sply' 
ing  himself,  at  the  same  time,  with  renewprl 

attention  to  fulfil  the  duties  of  his  state     It 

IS  true  his  situation  had  latterirbecom;  far 

mXe' of  f ''^''  ""^'^^  '^  '^^  persevering 
malice  of  his  companions,  who  laid  hold  of 

Ti:Z:^T''y  of  annoying  him,  and  tha 

see  that  hp  n  ^'^'''''*^/'  ^'  *^'^  ^^"^^  "«*  but 
see  that  he  never  made  a  complaint,  althouo-h 

they    constantly    accused    him    of    tatS 
Matters  were   in   this  position,   whef  som^ 
weeks   after   Father   FiUerberVs  depkr  ^e 
Mr.  Saunders  one  day  becl^oned  Willy TnTo 
the  office  where  he  was  alone      HavW  looked 
around  ^,th  all  the  cool  caution  of  hiTSounS 
men,  to  ascertam  that  no  one  was  listenW 
the  clerk  approached  Willy  Burke  who  co"fri 
not  help  wondering   at  all  thTprlXaUol 
"  I  have  not  a  moment  to  lose,  WUlyf  Kat 

LsTtlv'  ?h'/%^'"  "^^^"^^^  will'be  het 
presently.     I  have  for  some  time  past  observed 

that  you  are  subjected  to  a  constint  serierof 
annoyances,  which,  however  trifung  they  mav 
be  in  their  nature,  are  calculated  to  make  Zr 
position  anything  but  com fortablT  Your 
wages  too,  are  small;  what  think  you,  then 
of  taking  a  new  situation,  should  you  be 
offered  one  with  higher  wages?"  ^        ^® 

i.«  -4.  "L"'    -«-'^v;«  uy  surprise,  yet  he  did  nnf 

hesitate  a  moment  in   replyiilg^.    "No,  Mr! 


180 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


Saunders  ;  many  thanks  to  you,  sir,  for  being 
so  thoughtful  about  me,  but  it  isn't  wages 
would  ternpt  me  to  leave  where  I  am ;  and  as 
for  the  trials  that  you  speak  of,  sir,  I  can^t 
blame  either  Mr.  Weimar  or  Mr.  Talbot  for 
any  of  them.  —  neither  of  them  knows  the 
way  I  m  treated  ;  and  Fm  sure  if  I  was  only  to 
let  them  know,  they'd  soon  put  a  stop  to  it, 
so  111  not  leav3  them  on  that  account,  Mr 
i,    caiinders."  ' 

Saunders  was  somewhat  surprised,  for  he 
had  evidently  expected  to  find  his  proposal 
uT'  J^^^'^^    accepted.      "But,'   said    he, 

would  you  not  like  to  get  away  from  amongst 
these  lads  altogether?  In  the  place  which  I 
have  in  view  for  you,  I  can  assure  you  you 
will  have  no  such  annoyance  on  account  of 
your  religion.'* 

T  K^f  ^I  lu"  returned  Willy  with  a  smile,  "if 
I  hadn  t  that  to  bear,  I'd  be  sure  to  have  some- 
thing  else.  Every  Christian  s  to  carry  his 
cross,  and  when  mine  is  so  ve.,  light,  I'm  sure 
I  needn't  complain.  If  I  Ld^othl^g  to 
trouble  me,  sir,  I  might  begin  to  forget  God  ; 
but  so  long  as  one  has  little  trials  and  vexl 
ations  to  bear,  they  have  to  be  asking  grace 
from  above  to  assist  them."  s  g      « 

Wilb  !  said  Saunders,  after  a  moment's  re- 
flection ;  ''I  have  never  seen  much  of  Catholics 
^L\Z\  ^"'  ?^^?*'  ^^^  ^  ^^^^^  to  tJ^ink 

Uiat  tiie   accounts    onvpn   r»f   ^r^.^   ;^  U--1—    _ 

o "'■   jv«  lu.  uKMjti.ii  ars 


I 


Ebr  being 
I't  wages 
;  and  as 
,  I  can't 
ilbot  for 
lows  the 
3  only  to 
)p  to  it, 
mt,  Mr. 

for  he 
proposal 
aid  he, 
imongst 
which  I 
ou  you 
3unt  of 

lie,  "if 
e  some- 
irry  his 
'm  sure 
to 
God  ; 
d  vex- 
■  grace 

3  you, 
it's  re- 
tholics 
think 
kg  are 


img 


TiiK  laisir  ouPUAx  ix  America.       181 

prtc^S^s  r/yots  t;"^"f  '^?^^^"-"^«  -^^ 
the  R^^an  CaS  pS  r^^  "^^^"^^^^^^  ^^3^ 

"'nj'.  then,  Mr.  Saunders,  what  T'm  „n 
telling  j-ou  is  just  what  I  ha';  heard  f^  ^^ 
altar,  and  from  my  confessor^  t^      from  the 

I  could   understand  a  word     ^r.'u'  T" 
every  CatholiV  hoo>,«       ^   -      '  ®"^®  ^^'s  what 

put  what  tl  0  prL^  tel^    P  '•" '  ^"^  ^°°''  <>"«" 
flid,  sir,  it  would  be   i   .f«"  '""f  "''* '   ""  '^^ 

for  Sa"r2rsta"s'°on''l^°';  T  *«  '^'P'^'  '• 
enlightened  miL  V^  n^  "i''*'^'''  *  ^n^"  "f 
opinions.     "But   at  «  l^"''  ,'''"'"''  '»  ^s 

present  wages  are  „ot  at  T'''  '';'"-^''  y°"' 
deservin-  —  von  w  *  .  ^"  •"I""'  *»  your 
ful  here"  and  your  sTruo  I  ^''^'lingly  use, 
you  above  all  vabeTo?.^  '',''"''"'>■  '■<'»<1«''« 
of  what  I  have  said-  Jvv'^'^Pl'*^'*'''^-  TMnk 
not  Hghtly  ca\t  r^'gLSl.^"'''  ^""^  '«'' 

clecided'tone'-iufri'if'"  '^'''  ^^"'y'  '»  » 
more  about  the  Ittt  17*  *°  *''"*  ''"y 
employers  firs  took  me  ^'1^^^"''"' 
so  much  to  them  as  T  n™  „     '      ^''^'^  *  "^"'^'h 

in  the  course  o?  some  tTmelf'th'  'T°^«' 
w!th  me,  they'll  ghrmH  I'i  tl»  T"""  P''""'^'^ 
«ny  rate  M,^  sfindrrs  I'l  not t''"''"-  u"*-' 
while  they're  wiUinrto  tl"  1°    '"'^r   *''«"' 


TT_- 


ii^lve  yoq 


182 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


anything  more  to  say  to  me,  sir  ?  for  I  must  go 
now  to  something  I  was  bid  to  do." 

;'  You   not   go  yet,   Willy  Burke,"   said   a 

voice  that  made  both  start ;  and  opening  the 

door   of  a  closet  just   behind  the   desk,  out 

stepped  Mr.  Yv^eimar.     His  face  wore  just  the 

same  expression   as  usual,    but   there  was   a 

slight  tremor  in  his  shrill  voice  as  he  spoke. 

"Now,   Saunders,"   said   he,    "dere   is  no 

<  harm  dat  you  leave  us  when  you  goin'  into 

bisness  for  your  own  self,  dat  all  well,  an'  we 

not  say  you  wrong ;  but  what  for  you  try  to 

make  dis  boy  go  too,  eh  ?    You  know  him  good 

boy,  faithful  boy,  and  den  you  make  him  leave 

us,  and  go  vid  you.     I  not  expect  dat   from 

you,   Saunders,  and  I  ver}^  sorry,  verv  sorrv 

indeed."  -^        j         j 

"  Well,  Mr.  Weimar,"  said  the  clerk,  by 
way  of  apology,  "  you  have  so  many  young 
men  m  your  employment  (and  generally  speak- 
ing they  are  very  good,  as  the  world  goes), 
that  I  thought  you  might  spare  this  younff  lad, 
the  youngest  of  all." 

"  Aye,  but  better  you  ask  us  first,  if  we  vish 
to  part  him  ;  dat  be  de  fair  way  to  do.  Now 
Willy  Burke,"  said  the  old  man,  and  his  voice 
became  softer,  perhaps  unconsciously  to  him- 
self, "  now,  dis  de  second  time  dat  we  find  you 
refuse  to  leave  us ;  dis  last  time  you  were 
offered  more  vages,  you  not  consent,  and  you 
did  right.  Now,  I  veil  pleased  with  you,  and 
^  , ,,  vTTVf  viviiciio  a  iu\jix\iii  iiiur€  man 


must  go 


said  a 
ling  the 
Jsk,  out 
just  the 

was  a 
poke. 
e  is  no 
>in*  into 
,  an'  we 
a  tr}'-  to 
im  good 
m  leave 
it  from 
y  sorry 

erk,  by 
young 

'  speak- 
goes) , 

mg  lad, 

we  vish 
Now, 
s  voice 
o  him- 
ind  you 
a  were 
ad  you 
)u,  and 
e  than 


THE   IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  183 

you  had.     But  vat  dese  boys  dey  do  to  you  '    I 
not  hear  dal    )efore." 

"Oh,  sir!"  said  Willy,  "I  rather  you 
wouldu  t  ask  me  ;  it's  not  worth  talking  about, 
and  I  wouldn't  on  any  account  trouble  you  or 
Mr.  Talbot  with  such  little  trifles.  But,  sir, 
about  the  wages,  I'm  very  thankful  to  you, 
and  if  God  spares  me  life  and  health  I  hope  to 
prove  my  gratitude." 

*'  So  you  not  tell  me  vat  de  young  lads  do 
to  you?"  asked  Mr.  Weimar,  the  harsh  lines 
of  his  wrinkled  face  relaxing  into  a  smile  of 
even  kindly  meaning.  *'  Ha  !  ha  !  me  heard 
all  you  say  to  Saunders,  —  dat  your  cross,  eh? 
You  not  want  to  shake  it  off,  eh?  Go  off,  you 
young  Papist !  I  not  find  you  so  strange  now, 
since  I  know  de  reason  why  you  act  so."  And 
shaking  his  hand  playfully  at  Willy,  he  sent 
him  away,  being  desirous  to  speak  with  Saun^ 
ders,  who  was,  indeed,  about  to  commence 
business  on  his  own  account. 

When  Willy  found  himself  alone,  he  raised 
hfe  hands  and  eyes  to  heaven  in  fervent 
thanksgiving,  that  God  had  so  strengthened 
him  in  the  moment  of  temptation.  Although 
he  had  not  the  6;lightest  suspicion  that  any  one 
much  less  Mr.  Weimar,  had  been  within  hear- 
ing, yet  it  certainly  increased  his  satisfaction 
that  the  conversation  had  been  heard  by  him 
above  all  others.  "  For,"  said  he  to  himself, 
*'  Mr.  Weimar  used  to  think  that  there  was 
icarcely  a  Catholic  to  be  depended  on ;  and  I 


iiij 


184 


WILLY  bupke;   or, 


doing  what  I 'should  not  do  "   *  '"'''*  """"''"' 

eye«  and  'f^l'J^lt  *Cid  ^^^  c^'X'" 

Claimed,   almost  aloud-   "mirp   ifo  .^ 

that',  always  doin'  somPthfrfr.        ^  ^^"^^^^^^ 
hannx'      ivri     Vm    ®^"^®tbing  to  make  people 

that  Father,  Ktzhf^'h^  tt::;ecf  h^ 
But,  then,"  sa,d  he  to  himself,  "  Je  I  know 


gion,  that 

mnks  and 

me  from 


^Iit,  wheat 
a  hancl^ 
ly  bound 
Master 
t  up  and 
ne  of  the 
>k  — ^'A 
n  Biirke, 
sent  to 
i's  warm 
[Juct." 
precious 
iumed  a 
I  to  his 
i  utter  a 
es. 

ng  and 

he   ex- 

ourself 

people 

please 

Willy 
Talbot 
3rayer- 
it  once 
'■  him. 
'.  know 


TIIK   IRISH    ORPHAN   IX   AMERICA.  185 

finn    T,^  «i       T  ,  .        ^""  t^iy  consolinjr  reflec- 

gins  Delore  we  come  back.     They're  all  fiZ 

ooM^"'*''   '''^"*  Soing  to  the    churchyard  " 

ta.e  I  como  R  f  t"  '"''^''  *'^^'  «"  '^e  next 
AUce  on?T  R  • ,  f  ^  ^"°*  particularly  to  see 
it  ^t„M     .^"''g«t-     Do  you  know  *i,iy  must 

mJ      «  /^7^^^'^  ago -on  Wednesday  I 
thmk-and  she  says  they're  two  nice  l^ll 

if  'i't't^^'f'^''^"^  ^^  ^^■■^-  '"Catkins  see  them- 
Awh   ""■  l-^ftion?"  asked  Willy,  dryl^ 

She  often  told  me  that  she'd  like  to  see  them 
aj.d  so  she  sent  and  ordered  a  bonnet  al  Mr? 
J''  r.^  «'  ^"'^  -•'q-ested  that  either  bIZ. 
o.  ^.«,  ^urice  might  be  sent  home  withTt" 


i  n 

t    3f 


186 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


SO  Mrs.   Williams   sent  the   two,  as  it  was 
getting  a  little  late  in  the  evening.     That's  the 
way  she  managed  it,  and  when  she  talked  a 
little  while  to  the  girls,  she  was  so  taken  ug^,. 
with  them  that  she  can  think  of  nothing  else 


ever  smce. 

*'  Dear  me,"  said  Willy,  still  more  dryl}', 
*'  how  mighty  easy  it  is  to  catch  her  fancy ! 
And  so  I  suppose  she  could  find  it  in  her  heart 
to  take  owe  of  them,  or  both,  for  that  matter, 
when  they're  such  nice  little  girls,  eh,  Peter?  " 

"  You've  just  guessed  it,"  said  Peter.  "  She 
says  it's  the  greatest  pity  in  the  world  to  see 
such  girls  as  them  in  the  way  they  are." 

"  To  be  sure  ;  that's  just  what  I've  thought 
myself,"  retorted  Willy,  with  ironical  gravit3\ 
*'  And  so  your  good  Mrs.  Watkins  sent  you 
to-da}'^  to  try  and  coax  them  to  go  to  her? 
Now  tell  the  truth,  Peter,  wasn't  that  the 
reason  why  you  came  to  see  us  ?  " 

"  Well,  did  I  ever  see  such  a  curious  boy !  " 
said  Peter,  evasively ;  "  don't  you  know  very 
well  I'd  come  of  my  own  accord?  and  more 
shame  for  me  if  I  wouldn't." 

"  Aye,  shame  indeed !  but  then,  you  needn't 
be  turning  or  shifting  about  it ;  you  came 
to-'day  because  Mrs.  Watkins  sent  you,  —  that's 
the  whole  thing.  And  ycu  say  she'd  take  the 
two  girls  ?  " 

"She'd  take  one  —  Alice  she'd  like  best  — 
and  another  lady,  a  friend  of  hers,  a  rich  lady. 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA. 


187 


bring  them  up  so  that  they'd  never  have  to 
do  a  hard  day's  work.  They'd  be  as  well  off 
as  any  ladies." 

"Well,  I  don't  want  to  have  them  made 
ladies  of,"  s-iid  Willy,  quickly  ;  "  I  want  them 
to  get  their  decent  trade  learnt,  so  that  they'll 
be  able  to  do  for  themselves ;  and  I'd  rather  a 
thousand  times  see  them  working  hard  with 
Mrs.  Williams,  where  they  see  nothing  but 
what's  good,  than  to  have  them  sitting  up  in 
idleness  with  Mrs.  Watkins  and  the  other 
'  rich  lady,'  learning  nothing  at  all  but  how  to 
turn  up  their  noses  at  their  best  friends,  and, 
worse  than  all,  to  have  them  getting  to  be 
ashamed  of  being  Catholics.  And,  for  the 
matter  of  that,  it's  not  long  they'd  be  so. 
No,  no,  Peter,  you  may  go  back  and  tell  Mrs. 
Watkins  that  they're  well  enough  where  they 
are ;  and  that  if  they  hadn't  a  place  that  I 
liked,  I'd  give  them  every  penny  of  my  little 
wages,  and  beg  the  clothes  to  cover  me,  sooner 
than  let  either  of  them  go  to  her  or  any  one 
like  her.  I'm  sure  we've  got  enough  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Watkins  al'^ady  ;  and,  please  God, 
they'll  not  catch  c  taer  Alice  or  Bridget. 
With  God's  help,  we'll  not  lose  them^  poor 
little  girls!"  He  spoke  bitterly,  and  more 
angrily  than  usual,  and  Peter  replied  with  a 
flushed  eheek : 

"  And  do  you  think  I'm  going  to  take  your 
opinion  for  an  answer,  saucy  fellow  that  you 
are?  Not  I,  indeed!  I'll  go  straight  and  see'the 


188 


WILLY    IIURKK  :     OR, 


girls   thomaelves,  and    hear  what  they'll  say 
about  it." 

''  And  I'll  go  witn  you  then,"  said  Willy,  in 
a  milder  tone  ;  ''  for  I'm  afraid  you're*  riot  to 
be  trusted,  Peter.  You  are  nc^  sensible  of 
the  danger  you'd  bring  them  into." 

''  Well,  this  is  too  bad ! "  said  the  elder 
brother,  angrily,  as  they  walked  along  to- 
gether. "  Now,  I'd  like  to  know  what  are  yoa 
making  of  all  of  this  great  piety  of  yours ! 
You  that's  buch  a  good  Catholic  all  out !  What 
good  is  it  doing  you  ?  " 

"Why,"  said  Willy,  "if  it  goes  to  that, 
even  in  a  worldly  point  of  view  I'm  just  as 
well  off  as  3'ou  are,  though,  God  help  you ! 
I'm  afraid  you  never  stand  up  as  you  ought 
to  do  for  your  religion.  I  have  a  dollar  a 
month  now  more  than  3'ou  have." 

"  What ! "  said  Peter,  turning  short  round  ; 
**  have  they  raised  your  wages  again  ?  Oh,  I 
see  how  it  is,"  he  added  contemptuously,  "it's 
Mr.  Talbot  that's  doing  it ;  he  wants  to  humor 
you  up,  and  so  Mr.  Watkins  says." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Watkins  may  say  what  he  will," 
replied  Willy,  "  but  it  wasn't  Mr.  Talbot  that 
raised  my  wages  either  time;  it  was  Mr. 
Weijnar." 

''  Why,  how  in  the  world  did  that  happen?" 
asked  Peter,  evidently  taken  aback.  And 
when  Willy  told  him,  he  remained  silent  for  a 
considerable  time.  He  was  thinking  what  a 
strange  thing  it  was  that  his  brother  —  two 


w 


%• 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA. 


189 


3'ears  younger  than  ho  —  could  so  stoutly  resist 
and  even  overoome  temptation,  while  "he  was 
almost  sure  to  give  way,  even  at  the  very  first 
assault.  Yet  he  would  not  acknowledge  thut 
such  w^ero  his  ideas  ;  and  when  Willy,  seeing  a 
certain  confusion  in  his  face,  and  tI»erefore 
partly  guessing  his  thoughts,  would  have  per- 
suaded him  to  apply  for  grace  and  strength  at 
the  fountain  o^  all  good,  he  cut  him  short  by 
asking  snappishly,  ''  What  he  meant?" 

"  Why,  that  j'ou  ought  to  go  to  confession, 
Peter,  and  approach  the  Holy  Communion  a 
great  deal  ottener  than  you  do;  indeed  I'm 
afraid  you  never  go  at  all.  Have  you  been  to 
confession  since  Father  Fitzherbert  went 
awa}'?" 

''  No,  I  haven't,"  was  the  reply, ''  and  I  don't 
want  to  be  worried  about  it.  I'll  go  when  I 
think  fit,  and  I'll  not  go  at  all  if  I  don't  do  it 
of  my  own  accord.  So  don't  bothe»-  me  about 
confession.  Confession,  indeed  !  I'm  sure  it's 
the  fine  time  I  have  of  it  with  you  about  the 
same  confession." 

Willy  had  been  far  from  expecting  such  an 
answer,  and  it  took  him  so  much  bj^  surprise, 
that  he  did  not  speak  again  till  they  reached 
Mrs.  Williams's  house.  They  were  received 
by  the  good  lady  with  all  her  usual  cordiality, 
and  the  girls  were  doubly  pleased  to  see  ti>dr 
brothers  once  more  together. '  But  when  Peter 
opened  his  negotiatJbn  (which  Willy  purposely 
waited  for  him  to  do) ,  the  whole  scene  changed. 


I 


!-'  ( t 


190 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


Mrs.  Williams  could  scarcely  restrain  her 
indignation,  and  the  little  girls  cried  out  v/ith 
one  voice : 

"  Is  it  leave  Mrs.  Williams?  oh,  no,  Peter ! 
not  for  the  world,  unless  she  sends  us  away  !  " 
and  both  looked  timidly  at  their  benefactress. 
"And    that  I'll   never  do,   children,"   she 
said,  while  the  big  tear  trembled  in  her  eye. 
"  No,  if  I  had  only  one  dollar  in  the  world  — 
and  I  than|c  God  I  have  a  good  round  sum  by 
me  — I  wouldn't  grudge  you  the  half  of  it. 
They  are  not  in  New  York  this  day  I'd  let 
you  go  to  (without  you  were  taken  from  me  by 
them  that  had  a  right  to  do  it),  and  least  of 
all  would  I  turn  you  over  to  the  Watkins's. 
It  is  neither  to-day  nor  yesterday  that  I  heard 
of   their  doings  with  respect  to  Catholic  or- 
phans.   What  do  you  think  of  this,  Willy  ?  " 

Willy  told  her  exactly  what  he  had  before 
told  his  brother,  and  added  :  "  As  for  me,  Mrs. 
Williams,  I'm  just  of  your  notion  about  these 
people ;  and  I'd  as  soon  see  my  sisters  going 
into  a  house  on  fire  as  into  theirs.  So  if  you 
please,  ma'am,  you'll  not  send  them  there  any 
more  on  any  account.  While  they're  under 
your  care  I  have  no  fear  about  them,  and  that 
not  only  from  what  Father  Fitzherbert  told 
us  about  3^ou,  but  from  all  that  I  have  seen  of 
you  myself,  and  heard  from  the  girls." 

"With  God's  help,"  replied  Mrs.  Williams, 
."  I  endeavor  to  do  for  them  jnst  what  I  would 
for  my  own  children,  and  what  I  think  their 


f 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


191 


e> 


r 


own  worthy  mother  would  approve  of,  were 
she  living.  I  pray  with  them,  they  go  to 
church  with  me,  and  together  we  approach  the 
Holy  Sacraments.  I  send  them  daily  to  a  good 
school  —  not  a  proselytizing  school,  Peter,  and 
take  every  opportunity  of  explaining  to  them 
their  duty  to  God,  the  world,  and  their  own 
souls.  Then  they  are  learning  the  bonnet- 
making  business  morning  and  evening." 

Peter  knew  not  what  to  say ;  he  was  not 
yet  so  hardened  as  to  stand  up  in  defence  of 
what  his  conscience  told  hin  was  a  bad  cause, 
and  he  did  not  like,  on  tuvy  other  hand,  to 
allow  his  brother  so  great  a  triumph  ;  neither 
could  he  bring  himself  to  confess  that  he  had 
been  in  the  wrong. 

"  So  I'm  to  tell  Mrs.  Watkins,"  he  said, 
rising  suddenly,  ^'that  you  all  refuse  her 
offer — this  is  her  thanks  for  her  kindness  to 
our  famil}'." 

"Just  tell  her  what  j^ou  please,"  replied 
'Will}^  who  was  really  indignant  at  his 
brother's  conduct.  "  I  don't  thank  her  in  the 
least  for  her  kindness,  for  I  know  very  well 
what  she's  about.  She  has  got  one  —  more 
shame  and  sin  for  him  —  and  I  think  she  ought 
to  be  satisfied.  At  any  rate,  she'll  not  get 
either  of  my  sisters  hooked,  and  so  you  may 
tell  her,  if  you  wish.     Come,  girls,  are  you  for 

May  they  come^  Mrs. 

f 


a  walk  this  evening  ? 
miams  r ' 


•^irr  •  ■*  .  ■ 


I 
i 


192 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


"  Certainly/'  was  the  answer,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  girls  stood  read}-  for  their  walk. 

''  Are  you  coming  with  us,  Peter?"  inquired 
his  brother,  but  Peter  was  far  too  angrv  to 
consent.  "^ 

"No,  indeed,  that  I  am  not,"  he  replied 
sharply ;  "  an'  can  tell  you  it  will  be  many  a 
day  before  I  trouble  any  of  you  again.  It  is 
well  for  me  that  I'm  not  depending  on  my  own 
for  friendsl^ip,  or  anything  else."  And  with- 
out deigning  to  notice  his  young  sisters,  who 
ran  after  him  to  the  door  beseeching  him  to 
stay,  he  hurried  from  the  house.  He°had  not 
gone  far  on  his  way  home,  when  he  came  full 
against  Wilson  and  Hamilton,  where  they 
stood  conversing  at  the  corner  of  a  street 

"  Hillo,  there,  Peter ! "  cried  Wilson,  seeinor 
that  Burke  was  passing  without  seeming  to 
notice  them,  "  is  this  the  way  you  treat  old 
acquaintances  ?  " 

*'  Oh,  Mr.  Wilson,"  said  Peter,  stoppin<r 
short,  *'  is  this  yourself?  I'm  sure  I  wasn't 
thinking  of  seeing  you  here.  How  are  vou, 
Mr.  Hamilton?"  ^     ' 

*' First-rate,  Peter,  firsfc-rate  !  But  you  seem 
to  be  m  a  hurry  ;  perhaps  you  haven't  time  to 

stop.^ 

"Oh,  for  that  matter,"  said  Peter,  "lean 
stay  as  long  as  I  please.  I  am  little  less 
than  my  own  master,  particularly  on  Sundays, 
for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Watkins  are  ao  kind  fiinf 


THE   IRISH   OttPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  193 

they  let  me  do  what  I  please,  and  go  wherever 
I  like." 

*'  Aye,"  observed  Wilson,  *'  I  know  the^-  have 
a  great  regard  for  you.  I  have  often  heard 
Mr.  Watkins  say  that  you  are  worth  gold  to 
him,  from  j'our  smartness  and  fidelity." 

"Why,  I  thought  you  didn't  know  Mr. 
Watkins?"  said  Peter,  his  face  flushed  with 
the  joy  of  hearing  this  intelligence. 

"  Of  course  I  do  know  him,  and  well  too," 
was  the  reply  ;  "  we  belong  to  the  same  church  ; 
and  whenever  I  do  go  there  (which  is  not 
very  often),  I  sit  in  the  next  pew  to  his. 
What  an  excellent  man  he  is !  and  I  under- 
stand that  Mrs.  Watkins  is  a  most  amiable 
lady,  though  I  have  not  the  pleasure  of  know- 
ing /ier,  except  by  report." 

*'0h!"  exclaimed  Peter,  earnestlj-,  "it 
would  take  me  a  whole  day  to  tell  you  their 
kindness.  I'm  sure  if  I  was  their  own  son 
they  couldn't  be  much  better  to  me  than  thev 
are."  -^ 

*'  There,  you  see,  Hamilton,"  said  Wilson, 
turnmg  to  his  friend,  with  whom  he  exchanged 
a  sly  wink,  "  it  is  just  as  I  told  you,— if  it 
wasn't  for  that  one  thing  they'd  adopt  him  for 
their  own  at  once.  Such  was  the  impression 
I  received  from  Mr.  Watkins's  words.  What 
a  great  pity  it  is  that  such  an  obstacle  exists  ; 
as  with  his  talents,  and  the  influence  of  such 
a  ^ricuvi,  there'a  no  knowing  what  he  might 
come  to." 


194 


WILLY    BURKE  :     OR, 


"But  surcl}-,"  remarked  Hamilton,  "the 
obstacle  to  which  3011  allude  cannot  be  irre- 
mediable. Peter  Burke  is  not  the  lad  to  have 
his  prospects  blighted  by  silly  prejudice. 
Now  if  it  were  his  brother  I  couldn't  venture 
to  say  as  much,  for  really  that  boy  is  incur- 
ably blind  to  his  own  interest,  and  cannot  be 
moved  an  inch  out  of  his  old  way  —  he  is  so 
stupidly  ignorant." 

Peter  listened  attentively,  as  may  well  be 
believed,  and  greedily  swallowed  every  word 
of  this  well-managed  dialogue,  which  failed 
not  to  produce  its  fullest  effect  on  his  weak 
mind. 

"Well,  I'm  sure  I  don't  understand  what 
obstacle  you  moan,"  he  said  ;  ''  I  do  all  I  can 
to  please  Mr.  Watkins,  and  if  I  didn't  I'd  be 
very  ungrateful.  I  don't  know,  then,  what  he 
can  have  against  me." 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  that  he  has  anything  against 
you,"  said  Wilson,  quickly,  "  for  the  obstacle 
to  which  I  alluded  is,  as  Watkins  says,  rather 
your  misfortune  than  your  fault." 

"Why,  then,  what  in  the  world  can  it  be?  " 
cried  Peter,  fairly  at  a  loss,  and  full  of  curiosity , 
as  the}'  expected  he  would  be. 

"Ueally  I  do  not  like  to  tell  you,"  said 
Wilson.  "  We  are  so  incessantly  annoyed  by 
your  brother's  bigotry,  and  the  fuss  he  makes 
about  the  Church,  as  he  calls  it,  that  one 
dreads  to  find  you  having  some,  at  least,  of 
his  *  old-womanish  '  notions." 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  195 

'^Oh,  don't  be  afraid,"  said  Peter,  "don't  be 
afraid  !  Fll  not  quarrel  with  any  one  about  re- 
ligion. I  leave  that  to  Master  Willy  ;  for  if  he 
chooses  to  make  a  fool  of  himself  with  his  old 
Irish  notions,  that's  no  reason  why  I  shouldn't 
do  better." 

Wilson  threw  a  significant  glance  at  Hamil- 
ton, and  both  smiled.     '^  Such  being  the  case," 
observed  Wilson,  drawing  closer  to  Peter,  as 
they  all  three  walked  along  together,  "  I  may 
venture  to  tell  you  that  if  you  were  not  a  Cath- 
olic you  would  be  the  adopted  son  of  Mr.  Wat- 
kins,  who,  having  n6  children  of  his  own,  would 
of  course,  make  you  his  heir  — lucky  fellow 
that  you  are  !     I  wouldn't  tell  you  this  before 
Willy,  because  I  know  he'd  never  forgive  me 
and  then  he'd  be  sure  to  read  you  a  lesson  about 
submission  to  the  Church,  aiid  threaten  to  tell 
the  priest." 

"I  tell  you,"  said  Peter,  angrily,  "that  I 
don  t  care  a  straw  about  what  he  says,  nor  the 
priests  neither,  for  the  matter  of  that.  Pve 
been  too  long  humbugged,  and  kept  down  with 
fear  of  '  the  priests,'  so  I'll  just  begin  to  think 
and  speak  for  myself;  and  if  Mr.  Watkins 
lias  only  that  to  complain  of,  you  may  tell  him 
for  me  that  I'm  not  such  a  fool  as  he  takes  me 
for." 

"  Bravo,  Peter  !  "  cried  Wilson  ;  and  "  I  give 
you  joy,  Burke  !  "  said  Hamilton  ;  'and  both 
shooK  nanus  with  him,  one  after  the  other, 
Peter  feeling  all  the  time  as  if  he  had  shaken 


19G 


WILLY   DUUKE  ;     OR, 


off  on  the  moment  a  heavy  burden,  since  he 
had  found  courage  to  assert,  for  the  first  time, 
his  perfect  independence. 

Just  at  this  moment  they  reached  the  door 
of  the  Wesleyan  Methodist  meeting-house,  and 
Wilson,  making  a  show  of  going  in,  said  • 
"  What  do  you  think,  Peter,  if  you  come  in  to 
hear  Mr.  Donaldson  preach  ?  He  is  one  of  our 
crack  speakers  ;  and,"  he  added  with  a  laugh, 
"claims  none  of  that  overweening  authority 
that  your  Popish  priests  do.  Come  in,  like  a 
good  fellow,  and  hear  what  he  has  got  to 
say." 

But  Peter  still  hung  back,  —  the  last  tattered 
remnant  of  shame  still  clung  around  him,  and 
he  blushed  deeply  on  hearing  this  proposal. 
"  No,  not  this  evening,"  he  said  in  a  hurried 
manner,  "  its  getting  near  our  supper-hour,  and 
I  must  go  home." 

'*  Well,  I'll  not  press  you  for  the  present, 
but  some  other  time  you  will  come,  for  I  wish 
3^ou  to  hear  Mr.  Do.^aldson." 

"  Perhaps  I  may,"  said  Peter,  "  but  now  I 
must  bid  you  good-evening." 

"Good-evening  Peter,"  said  the  two  youno- 
men  together,  and  Wilson  added  :  "  See  that 
you  tion't  let  Willy  scold  you  into  your  old 
folly ! " 

"  Never  fear  —  never  fear  !  "  was  the  decided 
answer.  -"I'll  be  my  own  master  for  the  time 
to    come."    And    away  he   went.     Thfi    t.wn 


THE   IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  197 

friends  stood  looking  after  him  till  he  was  out 
of  hearing,  when  both  laughed  heartily. 

"How  eagerly  he  snapped  at  the  bait,"  said 
Hamilton,  *'  and  how  adroitly  you  did  hook 
him ;  one  would  really  think  you  were  in- 
timately acquainted  with  Mr.  Watkins,  such  a 
face  of  truth  did  you  put  on  your  story." 

"Aye,  revenge  is  a  powerful  instigator,"  re- 
turned Wilson,  with  a  laugh ;  "  I  was  all  the 
time  thinking  of  tho  pain  this  would  cause 
Willy  Burke  to  feel,  and  how  much  he  will 
think  himself  disgraced  by  his  brother's  apos- 
tasy.    That  is  all  that  I  have  in  view,     c^o 
long  as  I  succeed  in  mortifying  him,  I  don't 
care  a  straw  whether  this  wise  brother  of  his 
is  a  Papist  or  a  Bible  Christian,—  he  may  ffo  to 
the  devil  for  me,  if  I  can  only  revenge  myself 
on  his  saucy  brother,  for  all  his  tattling  and 
story-carrying." 

"  Well !  now  that  you  have  gained  your  end 
for  this  time,"  said  Hamilton,  laughing  again, 
I  suppose  worthy  Mr.  Donaldson  may  preach 
to  whoever  is  willing  to  listen  ;  of  course 
we're  not  going  to  sit  there  for  an  hour,  or  as 
long  as  it  may  please  him  to  hold  forth.  Ain't 
we  going  over  to  Williamsburg,  as  we  had  pro- 
posed doing  ?  "  * 

"  Of  course  we  are,"  was  the  reply ;  "I'd 
see  the  prosy  old  fellow  far  enough  before  I'd 
deprive  myself  of  the  trip,  for  the  purpose  of 
heanncr  \\\n\  roil  arrni»o4^  t>.v»^ ^  ,    * 


.  !i 


T    1- 


ociiuou  jL  v/pciy.     i  iiace  ii  as 


much  as  he  does,  — of  th^t  I'm  quite  sure 


198 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


but  he  can  say  nothing  new  about  it,  and  we're 
all  tired  of  hearing  the  same  old  stories  re- 
peated day  after  day,  with  only  occasional  va- 
riations, just  to  make  people  listen." 

"  Come  along,  then,  Georgie,  lad  !  "  and  off 
went  the  hopeful  pair  to  Williamsburg. 

That  same  evening,  when  Willy  returned 
home,  after  taking  tea  at  Mrs.  Williams's,  he 
was  surprised  to  find  almost  all  the  young  men 
assembled  ii^  the  sitting-room,  for  they  were  all 
in  the  habit  of  staying  out  even  later  on  Sun- 
day evenings  than  any  other.  "  Why,  3'ou're 
all  in  earlier  than  usual  to-night,"  said  he; 
"  I  declare  I'm  almost  the  last  myself.  I  hope 
we're  all  going  to  reform,"  he  added  jestingly. 
*'  If  we  ain't,"  said  Wilson,  with  a  sneer,  "  I 
know  who  is.  I  know  of  one  Papist  at  least 
who  is  already  more  than  half  converted  from 
the  errors  of  Poper3\" 

"More  shame  for  him,  then,  whoever  he 
is,"  said  Willy,  quietly,  for  he  began  to  see 
that  there  was  a  design  upon  him,  and  was  de- 
termined to  keep  his  temper,  with  God's  assist- 
ance. "  He  was  never  a  good  Catholic,  if  he's 
now  going  to  be  anything  else,  and  the  Church 
will  be  well  rid  of  him." 

"  Not  so  fast,  my  good  fellow !  "  said  Wil- 
son, in  a  tone  of  exultation  ;  ''not  so  fast,  if 
you  please,  for  it's  j-our  own  brother  I 
mean." 

Willy  Burke  turned  pale,  and  anon  red  as 
scarlet.    He  much  feared  that  what  Wilson 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA. 


199 


said  was  but  too  true,  3'^et  he  would  not  seem 
to  believe  it  possible ;  and,  swallowing  his 
emotion  as  best  he  could,  he  said  with  a  laugh 
—  it  was  a  forced  laugh,  too —  "  It's  all  very- 
well,  Mr.  Wilson !  you  can  crack  your  jokes 
on  me  as  long  as  j^ou  please ;  so  long  as  it's 
only  myself  you.  attack,  I  don't  care." 

"  But  this  is  no  joke,  I  assure  you,  Will^^ !  " 
replied  the  other ;  "  Hamilton  can  tell  you  that 
as  well  as  I,  for  we  both  had  it  from  jour 
brother  himself.  He  told  us  this  very  evening 
that  he's  going  to  become  a  Protestant,  hoping 
that  Mr.  Watkins  will  reward  him  bj'  making 
him  his  heir.  He  deceives. himself,  poor  fellow, 
for  that  gentleman  has  a  nephew  in  Savannah, 
who  will  inherit  his  fortune,  as  a  matter  of 
right." 

An  ashy  paleness  now  spread  itself  over 
Willy's  face  ;  and,  unable  longer  to  preserve  his 
composure,  he  would  fain  leave  the  room,  for 
he  found  it  difficult  to  restrain  his  tears.  He 
arose  in  silence,  and  was  walking  towards  the 
door,  repressing  his  emotion  as  much  as  he 
possibly  could,  when  Wilson's  tittering  laugh 
grated  on  his  ear ;  and,  turning  quickl}"  round, 
he  saw  that  almost  every  face  wore  a  look  of 
gratified  malice.  "  God  forgive  j^ou,  Mr.  Wil- 
son !  "  he  said,  with  a  quivering  lip  and  a  trem- 
ulous voice,  "  I  don't  know  why  it  is  that  3'ou 
all  seem  to  hate  me  as3'0u  do,  for  I'm  sure  I  never 

rlirl  nrw  anirl   vniA  rvmncr        f^ncl    errant  fhnt.    von 

don't  draw  down  punishment  on  30urselves !" 


200 


WILLY  burke;   or. 


It  was  m  the  midst  of  a  general  burst  of 
laughter  that  Dawson,  who  had  taken  no  part 
m  the  conversation,  stepped  forward  and  took 
Willy  by  the  hand,  saying  in  a  kind  tone  :  '^  1 
hope,  Willy,  that  you'll  not  set  me  down  as  one 
of  your  tormentors,  for  I  do  assure  vou  that 
I  m  sorry  to  see  you  receive  such  treatment, 
iielieve  me,  I  can  and  do  sympathize  with  you 
as  regards  your  brother's  apostasy  — jf  the 
news  be  tri^e,  as  we  are  assured  it  is  — lor  I 
know  and  respect  your  ardent  love  of  religion 
Your  example  goes  far  to  convince  me  that 
yours  IS  the  true  faith,  and,  with  God's  help, 
I  will,  from  this  night  forward,  set  about  seek- 
mg  the  truth." 

Having  thus  openly  expressed  his  opinion, 
Dawson  turned  and  bade  a  cold  "  good-night " 
to  the  other  young  men,  who  were  struck  dumb. 
It  would  appear,  by  this  unexpected  incident, 
and  he  left  the  room  with  W  illy.    The  latter 
almost  forgot  his  own  sorrow,*^  in  his  joy  to 
hear  such  sentiments  from  one  whom  he  had  so 
long  considered  as  blindly  prejudiced  against 
the  Church.     Greater  still  was  his  surprise, 
when  Dawson,  before  they  separated  for  the 
night,   asked  him  to  procure  for  him  some 
books  which  might  instruct  him  in  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Catholic  Church  ;  a  request  with 
which  he  willingly  promised  to  comply,  as  mav 
weU  be  believed.  "^  ^ 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


CHAPTER    X. 


THE  CRUCIFIX. 

TT  was  a  matter  of  agreeable  surprise  to 
-L  Willy,  that  from  that  time  forward,  a 
marked  change  for  the  better  was  visible  in  all 
his  companions,  Wilson  not  excepted.  He 
was  no  longer  treated  with  that  contempt 
which  it  had  so  long  been  his  lot  to  bear,  and 
if  a  sly  sarcasm  did  once  in  a  while  meet  his 
ear,  directed  either  against  his  religion  or  him- 
self, it  had  no  longer  the  bitterness  which  for- 
merly characterized  all  such  discourse  ad- 
dressed to  him  in  the  house.  This  change 
was  indeed  most  welcome  to  poor  Willy, 
coming,  as  it  did,  at  a  time  when  he  was  har- 
assed with  anxiety  about  his  brother,  and  he 
hailed  the  unwonted  civility  of  his  companions 
with  thanldulness  and  joy.  Wilson  was  now, 
above  all  others,  the  most  cheerful,  and  noth- 
ing could  exceed  his  kindness  to  Willy,  whom 
lie  jocularly  called  his  protege;  "for,'*  said  he, 
"you  have  actually  converted  me  from  the 
error  of  my  ways,  and  I  owe   you  so  much 

frrnfifnilo  fhof  T  olmll  -ft^T.  ^v.^  •«.,* j_..i 

self  3^our  friend  on  all  occasions,  and  defend 


r.-5l 


»02 


WILLT   BURKE  j     OR, 


yon  from  all  possible  attacks  on  the  score  of 
religion,  althougli  T  do  not  intend  to  become  a 
r«^!'olic~-just  yet." 

Wii;7  Burke  smiled,  and  professed  himself 
very  grateful  for  the  good  intentions  of  his 
new  friend,  although  he  could  not  but  find  the 
change  rather  sudden.  "  I  can't  understand 
It  at  all,  would  he  say  to  himself;  *'  but  then 
what  good  would  it  do  him  to  make  a  show  of 
bemg  my  friend  ?  and  only  his  heart  is  entirely 
changed,  he  surely  wouldn't  treat  me  so  dif- 
ferently from  what  he  did  before." 

Things  had  gone  on  in  this  way  for  at  least 
two  weeks.  Dawson  had  gone  through  several 
small  works  on  Catholic  Doctrine,  which  Willy 
had  borrowed  from  Father  O'Hara,  and  already 
the  light  of  divine  truth  was  beginning  to  shine 
on  his  mind,  so  long  darkened  by  prejudice 
and  overshadowed  by  the  clouds  of  error.  The 
young  man  himself  talked  little  to  the  others 
of  the  gradual  change  his  mind  was  under- 
going, for  he  knew  them  better  than  Willy 
did,  and  he  CAidently  placed  but  little  confi- 
dence in  their  present  show  of  liberality. 

One  evening  Willy  had  asked  permission  of 
Mr.  Talbot  to  go  see  after  his  brother,  »nd 
was  just  returned,  saddened  and  disappoint'^d. 
not  having  been  able  to  see  Peter,  whe  h- 
was  told  that  Mr.  Weimar  and  Mr.  Talbot 
were  both  in  the  sitting-room,  waiting  for  his 
return  It  was  very  near  the  usual  supper. 
«viiA.,  ;.     ..  ,1.  „.^...  „  t^vMMtij^c  Liiiic  iur  me  gentle- 


(( 


I 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN    AMERICA.  203 

men  to  come  ;  besides,  Mr.  Weimar  had  never 
been  to  the  house  since  Willy  lUirke  had  been 
its  inmate.  And  then  the  idea  of  their  wait- 
ing for  him  threw  him  into  a  tremor  which  al- 
most deprived  him  of  the  power  of  motion. 

*'  Waiting  to  see  me !  "  he  repeated,  in  a 
fnint  voice,  "why,  what  do  they  want  with  me 
at  this  hour  ?  " 

*'  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure  !  "  was  the  reply  of 
Hamilton,  for  it  was  he  who  opened  the  door, 
"but  they  do  seem  pretty  anxious  for  3'our 
coming." 

I'  Well,  then,  I'll  go,  in  God's  name  !  "  said 
Willy ;  and  opening  the  door,  he  entered  the 
sitting-room.  His  first  look  was  at  Mr.  Tal- 
bot, and  he  was  shocked  to  see  that  gentleman 
wear  a  sternness  of  aspect  all  unusual  with 
him.  Mr.  Weimar  was  pacing  the  room  to 
and  fro  with  a  restless  lir,  but  his  countenance, 
always  fixed  and  rigid,  gave  no  indication  of 
what  was  passing  in  his  mind.  All  the  3-oung 
men  were  present,  and,  as  Willy  glanced 
around,  he  fancied  that  every  face  wore  a  sort 
of  incipient  sneer.  Dawson  alone  looked 
kindly  on  him,  but  even  he  spoke  not  a  word. 
There  was  evidently  something  unusual  goino- 
forward,  and  Willy  felt  chilled,  though  he 
knew  not  why.  Mr.  Weimar  was  the  first  to 
speak,  and  his  tones  were  harsh — even  harsher 
than  their  wont. 


*'  You  keen  n; 


l/-wni 


TTClililX^,  IIX;      SiiiU) 


"  but  you  not  tink  to  find  us  here,  eh? " 


,)wui;i|Wi' 


204 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


"No,  indeed,  Mr.  Weimar,"  answered  Willy, 
*>  I  didn't  expect  to  see  either  j^ou  or  Mr.  Tal- 
-^Ikjt  here." 

"You  guess  why  we  come,  eh?  What  you 
tink  brought  us  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,  sir,"  said  Willy,  and 
his  voice  trembled  slightly,  "  I  hope  there's 
nothing  wrong?" 

"  Yes,  dere  is  someting  wrong,  sir ! "  said 
Weimar,  min^cking  his  tone,  "  and  I  tink  3'ou 
know  it,  too.  What  you  do  with  dat  parcel 
Mr.  Talbot  give  you  to-day  for  me  at  de  office- 
door  —  where  you  put  it,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  put  it  on  your  desk,  sir,"  said  Will}' ; 
and  the  color  left  his  cheek,  for  he  began  to 
fear  that  his  misgivings  were  too  well  founded. 

"On  mj'  desk,  eh?  I  see  no  parcel  dere. 
Where  was  I  when  you  put  it  on  mj^  desk  ? " 
asked  Weimar,  with  increasing  sternness  in 
his  voice. 

"  You  were  gone  to  dinner,  sir.  Mr.  Talbot 
knew  that,  too,  and  he  told  me  to  la}-  it  where 
I  did,  so  that  you'd  see  it  the  first  thing  when 
you  came  in.  I  put  it  in  the  big  book,  sir, 
that  was  Ij'ing  open  on  the  desk." 

"And  the  big  book  ate  it  up,  eh?  Now,  I 
much  'afraid  dat  you  be  one  deceitful  j^oung 
rogue,  Burke.  Did  anj'  one  see  3'ou  put  dat 
parcel  —  I  s'pose  you  know  very  well  dat  it 
was  money  —  on  my  desk  ?     Was  any  one  in 

J  _    _  .aa  _  _  n  »» 
UU  UillCU  : 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Willy,  and  his  thick,  husky 


I  '■  'fa 


THE   IRISH    ORPHAN   IX   AMERICA.  205 

voice  bespoke  emotion,  "  there  was  no  one  in 
the  office  at  the  time,  for  Mr.  Talbot  gave  me 
the  key  to  open  it.     But  sure,  sir,  tlie  parcel  * 
can't  be  lost?" 

"  I  much  fear  it  is,  Willy,"  said  Mr.  TaDjot, 
speaking  for  the  first  time,  "that  is,  unless 
you  can  find  it  for  us,  and  it  contained  a  large 
sum  of  mone3%" 

"  lie  know  dat  very  well,  de  3'oung  rascal,'' 
interrupted  Weimar,  angrily  ;  "dere  is  no  use 
asking  more  questions  —  he  take  de  money  — 
I  see  dat  plain  enough.  Now,  if  you  don't 
give  up  dat  money  dat  you  pilfer,  I'll  send  dis 
very  minute  for  de  police  and  den  you  go  to 
prison."  This  threat  was  made  with  a  ve- 
hemence which  would  have  seemed  foreign  to 
the  German's  disposition,  and  he  even  shook 
his  hand  menacingly  at  Willy,  but  the  latter 
scarcely  heeded  it.  Turning  to  Mr.  Talbot, 
who  still  sat  silent  and  stern,  with  his  arm 
resting  on  the  table,  he  said  : 

"And  do  you  believe  this,  Mr.  Talbot?  — 
do  yo2i  suspect  me  of  stealing  away  this  parcel  ? 
Money  I  didn't  know  it  was,  until  you  told 
me  just  now  what  was  in  it." 

"  IIow  can  I  believe  you  innocent,  Willy  ?  " 
and  Mr.  Talbot  heaved  a  deep-drawn  sigh  as 
he  spoke.  "Here,  I  gave  you  this  parcel 
(with  the  key  of  the  office,  knowing  that  Mr. 
AV^eimar  was  not  there),  and  directed  you  to 
place  it  on  the  writing-desk.  You  brought 
me  back  the  key  in  a  few  moments,  and  told  me 


d 


ill' 


206 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


you  had  clone  as  I  ordered,  but  when  Mr.  Wei- 
mar with  his  own  key  opened  the  office-door 
and  went  in,  a  short  time  after,  the  parcel  was 
not  there;  and  then  your  asking  permission 
to  go  out  this  evening  on  pretence  of  seeing 
your  brother  —  altogether  the  matter  wears  a 
bad  aspect.  Would  that  I  could  believe  you 
guiltless  of  this  crime,  for  I'm  sorry,  heartily 
sorry  to  find  you  — you,  Willy  Burke  — so  far 
different  froria  what  you  seemed  to  be." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Talbot,"  said  Willy  Burke,  in  a 
tone  where  reproach  was  blent  with  deep  sor- 
row, "  I  thought  you'd  be  the  last  to  believe 
me  guilty  —  not  because  I'm  any  better  than 
another  —  for  God  knows  I  am  not  —  but  be- 
cause 3-0U  know  very  well  that  I  try  all  I  can 
to  do  and  say  what  religion  teaches.  I  could 
bear  all  —  all  —  they  might  send  me  to  prison 
and  punish  me  any  way  they  like  —  though 
the  Lord  knows  I'm  as  innocent  of  this  crime 
as  the  child  unborn  —  so  long  as  j^ou  didn't 
believe  me  guilty  ;  but  for  you — you,  Mr.  Tal- 
bot, that  was  more  like  a  father  than  a  master 
to  me  —  for  3'ou  to  suspect  me  of  such  a  deed 
as  this,  oh,  indeed,  sir,  it  goes  to  my  very 
heart! "  And  the  big  tears  trickled  unheeded 
from  his  eyes.  Yes,  it  was  evident  that  the 
heaviest  blow  of  all  was  Mr.  Talbot's  seeming 
readiness  to  believe  him  guilty.  That  gentle" 
man  himself  was  even  visibly  touched  by  this 


-JTi' 


tJ-'^'l.  i  %.'  TT 


\xf,4-       refill     ■f•^.^4.,.      


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.         207 

SO  Strong  against  Willy,  that  he  dared  not 
listen  to  the  proiflptings  of  his  generous  heart. 
"  I  repeat,"  said  he,  ''  that  I  am  truly  sorry 
that  suspicion  should  rest  on  you,  and  doubly 
sorry  shall  I  be  if  you  are  found  to  deserve  it. 
But  what  say  these  young  men  ? "  he  added, 
turning  to  some  of  the  others.  "  Have  any  of 
you  seen  or  heard  anything  this  day  that  mio-ht 
throw  light  on  this  unfortunate  occurrence  ? " 
"Ay,"  said  Weimar,  "can  any  one  give 
dc  — de  — what  you  call  dat  ?— testimony 
against  dis  boy,  for  he  goes  to  prison  dis  very 
night,  so  sure  as  I  live." 

Being  thus  addressed,  one  of  the  lads,  Henry 
Davis,  stepped  forward  and  said,  though  with 
well-feigned  reluctance,  that  he  had  seen  Willy 
Burke  put  a  small  parcel  in  his  pocket  before 
he  left  the  warehouse,  though  he  could  not  see 
what  it  contained. 

''  Was  that  the  one  you  saw,  Henry  ?  "  asked 
Dawson,  coming  suddenly  forward,  and  taking 
a  small  parcel  from  his  pocket. 

"  I  can't  say ;  it  might  have  been." 
"  Because  Willy  Burke  gave  me  this,  just 
before  he  went  out,  when  I  met  him  at  the 
door,  and  the  gentlemen  can  see  for  themselves 
what  it  contains."  He  opened  it,  and  laid  on 
the  table  a  small  book  :  it  was  "  The  Grounds 
of  the  Catholic  Docrine."  "  This  is  the  par- 
cel, Henry,  that  you  saw  Willy  Burke  put  in 
"^o  i^vy^xvcL,  lui  uu  uau  laia  it  aside  on  a  shelf 
until  it  was  time  to  leave  the  warehouse.    And, 


^4 


208 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


gentlemen,"  he  added,  turning  respectfuily  to 
the  merchants,  "  notwithstantling  the  apparent 
difficulty  m  believing  him  innocent,  I  do  ven- 
ture to  say  that  in  my  opinion  the  poor  lad  is 
innocent  of  the  crime  laid  to  his  charge.     I 
solemnly  declare   that    I   could    scarcely   be 
brouglit  to  believe  him  guilty  of  even  a  much 
more  trifling  misdemeanor.     And  if  I  had  ten 
thousand  dollars  I  would  stake  it  on  his  inno- 
cence bein^  established.'* 
w-n^??  reward  you,  Mr.  Dawson  !  "  exclaimed 
Willy  Burke,  "  and  I  hope  you'll  never  want 
a  tnend  in  your  hour  of  need." 
•    "wm"'  (George,"  said  Mr.  Talbot,  address- 
ing Wilson    *' what  have  you  got  to  say  in  this 
matter,  for  I  see  you  have  been  for  some  time 
watching  your  opportunity  to  speak?" 

AH  eyes  were  now  turned  on  Wilson,  who 
came  slowly  forward,  as  though  the  task  before 
him  was  excessively  repugnant  to  his  feelings. 
"Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "I  have  been  some 
years  m  your  employment,  and  have  found  you 
uniformly  generous  as  well  as  just ;  it  would 
111  become  me,  therefore,  to  remain  silent  when 
1  am  conscious  that  I  have  it  in  my  power  to 
do  you  a  service.  Some  people  may  be  induced 
tlirough  a  false  pity  "-here  he  glanced  at 
Dawson—  *'  or  some  other  less  excusable  mo- 
tive, to  connive  at  guilt,  and  even  attempt  to 
screen  it  from  punishment ;  but  this  I  cannot 
clo,  and  I  therefore  tell  you  — thoup-h  I  rpo-r^t 
the  necessity  which  compels  me  so  to  do— 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN   IN    AMERICA.         209 

that  Willy  Burke  is  a  far  different  character 
from  what  you  suppose  him  to  be,  and  I  have 
not  the  least  doubt  but  that  he  really  took  this 
money,  whatever  he  may  have  done  y  ith  it. 
Hamilton,  will  you  tell  the  gentlemen  what 
you  saw  him  do  to-day  ?  " 

Hamilton  then  stated  that  he  had  chanced 
to  be  doi  :g  something  in  a  kind  of  recess 
which  was  nearly  opposite  the  office  door,  when 
he  saw  Willy  Burke  enter  and  close  it  after 
him.  In  a  few  minutes  he  came  out,  and  after 
having  locked  the  door,  he  distinctly  saw  him 
put  his  hand  into  the  breast-pocket  of  his  coat, 
as  though  to  ascertain  the  safety  of  something, 
and  then,  buttoning  his  coat  closely,  he  walked 
quickly  away.  *'0f  course,"  said  Hamilton, 
''I  thought  no  more  about  the  circumstance 
till  I  heard  of  the  missing  parcel,  when  it  oc- 
curred to  me  at  once." 

'i  Now  I  declare  in  the  presence  of  God," 
said  Willy,  his  cheeks  flushed  with  honest  in- 
dignation, "  and  before  all  the  saints  in  heaven, 
that  I  do  not  remember  to  have  done  as  Mr. 
Hamilton  says  I  did.  I  neither  put  my  hand 
in  my  bosom,  nor  buttoned  up  my  coat,  —  and 
that's  as  true  as  that  I'm  standing  here !  " 

Mrs.  Malcolm  was  now  called  in,  and  was 
asked  whether  Willy  Burke  had  gone  up  to  his 
room  after  coming  from  the  warehouse,  before 
he  went  out.  The  housekeeper  was  not  a  little 
surprised  at  the  queation.  anr\  tho  oori/Mia  v«o«^ 
ner  in  which  it  w^as  put,  but  she  answered  at 
U 


:'l| 


210 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


once  that  he  had,  —  he  just  went  np  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  then  went  out  in  a  hurry,  8a3-ino' 
that  he  would  be  back  b^^  the  time  supper  was 
ready,  if  he  possibly  could. 
^  "Dere  now,  Talbot,"  said  Weimar,  exult- 
mgly,  "  what  j'ou  say  to  dat,  eh?" 

"  I  say,"  replied  Talbot,  "  that  we  had  bet- 
ter go  at  once  and  search  his  room  ;  since  he 
denies  having  taken  the  money,  we  must  pro- 
ceed with  such  steps  as  may  lead  to  its  dis- 
covery. You  will  please  light  us  up  stairs, 
Mrs.  Malcolm,  to  Willy  Burke's  room." 

"  Certainly,  sir !  "  said  the  housekeeper,  and 
forthwith  she  fetched  a  lamp. 

'^But  will  you  just  let  me  say  one  word, 
gentlemen  ?  "  Mr.  Talbot  nodded  assent,  and 
Weimar  stopped  to  listen,  his  foot  resting  on 
the  first  step  of  the  stairs. 

"  Now  I  understand  that  you're  suspecting 
this  puir  laddie,  Burke,  of  purloining  some- 
thing, and  you  may  baith  tak'  an'  auld  woman's 
word  for  it,  that  he  never  did  ony  sic  like  thin<r. 
N a,  na,  —  Willy  Burke  fears  God,  and  serves 
him,  too,  with  all  his  heart ;  and  sic  like  folks 
are  never  found  breaking  his  commandments. 
I  tell  you  — and  you'll  find  my  words  true  — 
thg,t  Willy  Burke  is  innocent,  let  who  may  be 
guilty !  "  "^ 

"I  should  be  happy,  indeed,  Mrs.  Malcolm, 
to  find  it  so ! "  said  Mr.  Talbot,  as   he  mo- 
tioned to  Mr.  Weimar  to  go  on,  "  but  unfor- 
i-iicic  is  Bwuiig  prooT  against  him." 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  211 

He  then  called  to  Willy  and  a  few  of  the  other 
young  men  to  go  up  with  him  and  Mr.  Wei- 
mar;  while  Mrs.  Malcolm  brought  up  the  rear, 
muttering,  as  she  went :  ' 

I' I  dinna  care  a  button  for  their  proof,— 
1 11  never  believe  him  guilty,  unless  I  saw  it 
with  my  ain  eyes  !  " 

"  ^"^  probably  j^ou  may  see  it  with  your 
own  eyes,  Mrs.  Malcolm  ;  »  said  Wilson,  taunt- 
mgly,  as  he  walked  just  before  her.  "  What 
wilfyou  say  then  to  your  favorite^" 

"  Why  just  this,"  returned  the  housekeeper, 
snappishlj^  "  that  the  puir  laddie  has  enemies 
bad  enough  to  do  anything  they  can  to  blacken 

;  ^T,^  ^^  *^"*^  "^^"^  ^"t,  Mr.  Georgie  Wil- 
son !  I  d  sooner  suspect  your  ainself,  for  I 
well  believe  you'd  do  amaist  ony  thing  to  in- 
jure him,  though  he  never  injured  you  " 

.  •  i^?rM®  ^  ''''?  what  you  say,  Mrs.  Malcolm," 
said  Wilson,  almost  aloud,  forgetting  all  cap- 
tion in  his  anger,  and  turning  to  her  with  a 
nushed  cheek  and  a  menacing  air  ;  "  I'd  advise 
you  to  keep  a  civil  tongue  in  your  head,  or  vou 
may  chance  to  find  — "  '      J"" 

''  J^'bat  all  dis  about?  »  cried  Weimar,  from 
the  top  of  the  stairs  ;  "  who  make  dat  noise 
derr  below?" 

"  Mrs.  Malcolm  and  myself  were  just  speak- 
ing of  some  little  matter  belonging  to  the 
house  sir  "  said  Wilson  quickly,  and  he  looked 
signincantlv  ni.  fhn  Vir^.ic,rt].-«^^ —   v-j.  -.1      ^   .. 

was  in  no  humor  to  heed  the  signal,  and  she 


'<■  ti 


m 


212 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


Sf\id  m  a  still  louder  voice,  as  she  reached  the 
last  step,  and  stood  beside  Mr.  Weimar,  where 
he  awaited  them  : 

"  You  need  na  be  winkin'  or  blinkin'  at  me, 
Mr.  Wilson.  I  tell  you  over  and  over  again 
that  I'd  sooner  suspect  any  one  of  you  than 
him  ;  an'  its  my  firm  conviction  Tiat  it  will  all 
come  out  to  be  a  vile  plot.  Hear  ycu  that, 
now?" 

"  Hush,  hush,  Mrs.  Malcohn  ! "  interposed 
Mr  Talbdt,  soothingly ;  "  let  us,  if  possible, 
probe  the  matter  to  the  bottom,  so  tha+  the 
truth  may  appear  — but  till  then  we  had  bet- 
ter say  as  little  as  possible." 

Just  then  they  all  entered  Willy  Burke's 
room,  and  Mr.  Weimar  himself  set  about  mak- 
ing the  proposed  search.  In  the  first  place  he 
asked  Willy  for  the  key  of  his  little  trunk, 
which  was  cheerfully  given.  The  trunk  was 
searched,  but  nothing  was  seen  that  could  ex- 
cite the  least  suspicion.  The  bed  was  next 
examined,  but  with  the  same  success  ;  and,  in 
short,  every  spot  within  the  chamber,  where  the 
smallest  parcel  could  be  concealed,  underwent 
the  strictest  examination,  Mr.  Weimar,  as  he 
proceeded,  throwing  many  an  angry  look  at 
Willy,  where  he  stood  leaning  against  the  wall. 
It  was  evident  that  the  German  had  hoped 
much  from  this  search,  for  at  every  fresh  dis- 
appointment he  grumbled  out:  "What  de 
deevil !  de  money  not  here  —  de  3'oung  robber 
^"^—  away  wid  it  when  he  go  out  dat  time." 


HJI 


3hed  the 
r,  where 

L*  at  me, 
T  again 
ou  than 
will  all 
>u  that, 

erposed 
osslble, 
.ha+  the 
ad  bet- 

Burke's 
Lit  mak- 
>lace  he 

trnnk, 
nk  was 
»uld  ex- 
is  next 
and,  in 
lere  the 
lerwent 
,  as  he 
look  at 
le  wall. 

hoped 
jsh  dis- 
hat  de 
robber 
me." 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA.  213 

All  this  time  Willy  had  not  spoken  a  word, 
nor  manifested  the  slightest  anxiet}',  and  when 
the  fruitless  investigation  of  the  room  was  con- 
cluded, Mr.  Weimar  said  to  him  :  "  You  take 
dis  matter  very  cool  — you  not  the  least  fright- 
ened, eh  ?  You  tink,  I  s'pose,  dat  when  we 
not  find  de  money  here,  you  all  right ;  but  we 
see  dat ;  we  make  you  confess  dis  great  rob- 
bery, dat  we  will;  you  go  to  jail  dis  very 
hour." 

"  Well  sir,"  said  Willy,  in  a  firm  but  re- 
spectful tone,  "  I  can  only  tell  you  again  that 
I  am  innocent;  and  as  you  have  so  much 
reason  to  suspect  me,  I  suppose  I  have  nothing 
to  expect  but  what  you  threaten  me  with.  It's 
hard,  sir,  very  hard  that  I  must  be  sent  to  jail, 
—  not  that  I'd  complain  on  my  own  account, 
but  Tor  the  disgrace  it  is  to  the  good  father  and 
mother  that  reared  me,  and  to  the  holy  religion 
I  profess ;  but  then  if  it's  the  will  of  God  I 
must  submit  without  a  murmur,  an'  I  don't 
blame  3'ou,  gentlemen,  if  you  do  put  me  in 
prison,  for  I  know  that  as  everything  stands 
now,  you  can't  but  think  me  guilty.  But  Mr. 
Weimar,  you're  under  a  mistake,  sir,  i^  you 
think  that  I'm  grieved  and  troubled  about  this  ; 
I  am,  indeed,  sir,  both  sorry  and  ashamed  that 
such  a  thing  should  even  be  laid  to  the  charge 
of  my  father's  son  ;  but  I'm  not  a  bit  afraid  on 
my  own  account,  for  I  know  that  God  will 
iiiig  cue  tiucu  Lu  liguL  ill  ms  own  gooa  lune, 


11: 


'.'I 


^1 

"■i 

I 


214 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


"  ^I't'"  sni'l  Mr.  Talbot,  who  could  not  h^ln 
receiving  a  favorable  impr;ssio„Xm  Wi  S 
words  and  manners,  "  but  since  you  so  s  "»„ 
uous ly  declare  yourself  innocent,C-e  you  "o 
suspicion  of  tlie  real  offender?"  ^ 

"tha^TVlt"*'"'.^^'-  '^''^^'^"  ^"«  the  reply, 
tbat  I  d  suspect  any  one  of  committino-  snrl, % 
crime, muph  less  mention  anyname  Oh"  1 
«r  t-,  bad  enough  for  onei  bfsk  down  .s 
guilty,  and  not  to  be  bringing  in  another  A^' 
I  have  to  say  is,  that  I  put'tLe  patel  wht^ 
you    old  me,  sir,  ou  Mr!  Weimar's  desk  and 

ba:k'?he1ef  ^'''T'  ""'  '^^  "^-5*  S 
oacK  «ie  key.     I  neither  saw  nor  heard  anv 

one  in  or  about  the  office;  and  indevlt  don't 

know  how  any  one  could  get  in  to  ta8e  it 

away  before  Mr.  Weimar  c!me  back  for  the 

other  door  of  the  office,  the  one  lead  i^  5  fro™ 

"  will  T''-''  "'"ir'  ^^^■'^y'  locked!"""" 
served  M,.T  i!"  I'T^^l  """"countable  I"  ob- 
seived  Mr.  Talbot  to  his  partner.  "  Here  i., 
this  lad,  in  the  simplicity  of  his  he^rt  i? 
ng  the  chance  of  shittinr/uspfciont^m  S: 
self,  by  assuring  us  that  he  neither  saw  nn," 
heard  anyone  about  the  office,  and  eveT  th^ 

so.     Surely  this  does  not  look  like  guilt '» 
Weimar  was  about  to  answer,  and  his  look, 

iri^i  ^Pf-""".   "hen   suddenh    L  t- 
,.w»wu>;u   V.  illy,  and  said,  "  What  is  dat  ting 


All 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA.         215 

dat  make  a  bulk  dere  in  3^our  breast  ?  Open 
your  coat,  dere's  some  ting  in  dat  pocket ;  let 
us  see  what  it  is  ?  Ha,  ha  !  de  secret  will  come 
out  now,  I  tink." 

Every  eye  was  now  turned  on  Willy's  bosom, 
where  sure  enough  there  was  a  very  percepti^ 
ble  protuberance,  as  if  of  some  parcel  thrust 
into  the  breast-pocket  of  his  coat.  Even  Mrs 
Malcolm  trembled,  and  the  young  men  could 
scarcely  refrain  from  laughing  out,  in  the  glee 
of  exultation.  Mr.  Talbot  said  nothing,  but  a 
slight  flush  was  on  his  cheek  as  he  watched 
the  changing  countenance  of  the  lad,  and 
waited  to  see  what  he  really  dreaded,— the 
confirmation  of  his  suspicions.  But  Willy 
showed  no  sign  of  either  fear  or  confusion 

*'Here,  Mr.  Weimar,"  he  said,  hastilv  un- 
buttoning the  round  jacket  which  he  wore, 
"  here,  sir,  you  can  search  my  pockets,  aye! 
every  one  of  them !  There  is  somethino-  in 
this  breast-pocket,  sir,  but  you  can  tak*e  it 
out  yourself,  and  then  you'll  see  what  it  is." 
Weimar  thrust  in  his  hand  and  drew  forth 
not  the  missing  parcel,  but  a  small  ebony 
crucifix,  worn  and  old,  as  though  it  might 
have  belonged  to  a  by-gone  age. 

"Why,  vat  de  deevil  is  dis?"  cried  Wei- 
mar, as  he  held  the  crucifix  aloft,  amid  the 
suppressed  tittering  of  the  young  men,  with 
the  single  exception  of  Dawson  ;  "  vat  dis  tino- 
■-^-■^  he  carry  in  his  pocket?    Oh,  dis  some 


Ml 


) 


If 


1  f,l 


■'4 


uat 


21G 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


V 


K%u.ttV"°°*  ''^  °»'"^-  ""''  ^-  -« 

"  Jhat  is  a  cnicifix,"  replied  Talbot,  calmlv  • 

lol  ^r ."'«''"'«'  '»>•  fiend,  in  calling  H  an 
Idol;  ,t  ,s  merely  a  representation  of  our 
Lord's  passion  and  death." 

"  Yes,  yes  I  "  said  the  other,  qnicklv  "  but 
vat's  de  use,  eh?  Vat  good  dis,  vat  ^u  call 
It,  dis  presentation,  eh  ? ''  ^ 

"  Kepresentation,"  said  Talbot  again. 
Hi«  t!  ^%'    w?  *.'""«  '^'"■*' !  v«">  vat  good  in 
"  Ro^l.    YV  '"'  '"'"y  "  '"  '"^^  pocket?" 

"ThS''„    ^r*  '"'°'^'"  ™J°'ne<l  Talbot. 
The  first  part  of  your  question  I  could  easily 

so  I  cannot  tell  you,  for  it  is  by  no  mean^ 
usual  with  us  Catholics  to  have  cmdfl" 
that  size  upon  our  person.    Answer  Mr  Wei 

wi"  ^T' °"'  '*^"'>'''*  ^^  added;  and  Ws 
voice  had  almost  all  its  usual  softness,  for  he 
became  more  and  more  convinced  tha  Willy 
had  been  wronged.  ' 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Willy,  « I  fuot  n„t  !f  • 
my  pocket  when  I  was  goi^g  to  s'ee  mfbro  h  r 
this  evenmg,   and,  to   tellyou  the  trut^,    if 
was  for  it  I  came  into  the  house  after  lief 

other  trmeT;  -Z^"''  ^"^^  "  ^'*  ™«  ^  'J 

header r;  ^d.-'  ''''"='  °"  '''''  "''''  ''*  "^« 

"  And  vat  you  bring  it  out  dis  evening  for  '  » 

'a  wanted  to  show  it  tomv  broths?  «"!.» 

«ia  lor  the  first  time  Willy  Bmke~h Jug  his 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAX    IN    AMERICA. 


217 


head,  while  his  very  forehead  assumed  a  crim- 
son hue. 

"Your  broder,  he  never  see  it  before,  do 
old  ting,  vat  3'ou  call  'presentation,'  eh?  Vat 
you  show  it  to  him  for,  tell  me  dat  ?  " 

'*  Mr.  Talbot,"  said  poor  Willy,  turning  in 
his  distress  to  that  gentleman,  and  his  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  "  Mr.  Talbot,  I'd  rather,  if 
you  please,  sir,  that  Mr.  Weimar  wouldn't  put 
this  question  to  me,  if  you'd  be  good  enough 
to  ask  him." 

''Nay,"  said  Mr.  Talbot,  "  3'ou  had  better 
answer  the  question  ;  I  mj-self  am  desirous  to 
hear  your  reason  for  bringing  the  crucifix  to 
your  brother,  for  I  see  there  is  something  un- 
usual in  the  case." 

"  Well,  sir,"  and  Willy  spoke  with  difficulty, 
for  tears  were  choking  him,  "  poor  Peter,  I'm 
afraid,  is  in  a  bad  way  this  time  back,  and  if 
what  I  heard  the  other  evening  be  true,  his 
soul  is  in  great  danger  of  being  lost,  so  as  I  had 
tried  every  way  that  I  could  think  of  to  make 
him  begin  a  new  life,  but  all  to  no  purpose,  I 
just  took  it  into  my  head  that  maybe  the 
sight  of  this  crucifix  might  have  some  eflTect 
on  his  mind, —  if  it  wouldn't  I  might  give  him 
up  for  lost."  Here  Willy  stopped,  for  he 
could  not  speak  another  word,  but  Mr.  Talbot 
quickly  caught  him  up  : 

"  Alas  !  "  sighed  Talbot,  as  though  thinking 


44  ^.1. 


Yf  liKlli 


LUC 


V« 4-       •-       I-. 


J 


iiuui  i,    i»    liuruuucti 


^y 


ik 


com-se  of  sin,  or  steeled  by  the  prejudice  of 


I 

I 


hi 


r 

'I 

1 
4  J 


Mi 


"i\. 


218 


WILLV    BURKE  ;     OB, 


error,  how  little  is  it  touched  by  the  sight  of  anv 

n?.?!  ^"'  7"l^^^-  ^°  ™°'''  '^  «™ciflecl  Saviour  ii 
an)  thing  ijjjt^iejjr^^.^jj. 

ami  hourly  life  as  they  cannot  but  feel,  is  acon- 
tinua  lusult  offered  to  him-  the  JLw-God. " 
'les,  but,  Mr.  Talbot,"  said   Willy,  '-if 
this  was  any  other  crucifix  but  the  one  it  is, 
I  wouldn^  have  thought  of  such  a  thing,  but 
U  s  an  old  family-piece,  sir,  and  every  one  of 
oin-  family  that  died  since  he  or  I  remembeis, 
this  very  crucifix  was  put  in  their  hands  when 
they  were    leaving  this    world.    Above   all, 
sir  —here  the  poor  fellow's  voice  sanic  almost 
to  a  whisper -"above    all,  Mr.  Talbot,  we 
both  saw  It  put  in  my  father's  hand,  and  in 
my  mother's,  when  they  were  dying,  and  laid  on 
their  bosoms  when  they  were  dead,  and  that's 
the  reason  why  1   thought  that  if  the  sio-ht 
of  It  would  not  soften  his  heart,  and  malce 
him  love  our  holy  religion,  nothing  in  Us 
or.,I  would.     But  the  worst  of  it  was,  sr 
bat  I  didn't  see  Peter  at  all ;  he  wasn't  ^vithl 
in,  or  at  least  they  told  me  so." 

in^  ^f  T-  ^r^^i  P"^''"  "''■'J  ^<=™m.  burst- 
ing into  a  kind  of  cackling  lauo-h  peculiar  tn 

nmself  and  forgetting  his  money  aid  h: 
anger  for  the  moment.  "Your  bidder  have 
great  loss,  eh?  Now,  you  Papists  are  all 
fools, -fools  every  one.  And  so  yon  tink 
jour  piece  of  black  wood,  dat  cross,  co  d 
change  your  broder,  and  mal-o 
Cat'hc,  eh  ?    Dat  good  fun  J " 


nirvi 

SJ.l.lXt. 


:uu 


Od 


i  ;j, 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


219 


Ilis  laugh  was  eclioed  by  Wilson  and  Hamil- 
ton and  their  friends,  while  Dawson  looked 
reprovingly  at  them.  Mrs.  Malcolm  could  no 
longer  restrain  her  indignation ;  wiping  away 
with  her  white  apron  the  tears  which  Willy's 
simple  explanation  had  called  forth,  she  said 
aloud,  and  with  unfeigned  anger : 

"  You  graceless  pack  o'  ne'er  do  weels ! 
how  daur  you  laugh  at  the  puir  laddie  sae  ? 
When  you  hae  na  the  grace  to  believe  as  he 
does,  ye  should  at  least  hae  the  manners  not 
to  laugh  at  him  for  having  the  fear  of  God 
and  the  love  of  religion  in  his  heart." 

"You  forget,  good  Mrs.  Malcolm,"  said 
Weimar,  angrily,  "  dat  your  pious  laddie  has 
stolen  our  money  ;  but  we'll  send  him  vere  he 
deserves  to  go,  and  let  him  see  if  his  cross  — 
dat  piece  of  black  wood  dere  —  vill  take  him 
out.     Go  ofl'  some  one  for  de  police." 

In  vain  did  Mrs.  Malcolm  beg,  even  with 
tears,  that  the  matter  might  be  examined  farther 
before  such  a  decisive  step  was  taken,  and  even 
Mr.  Talbot  suggested  that  it  might  be  post- 
poned till  the  following  day.  No,  no !  Wei- 
mar was  determined,  and  would  not  hear  a 
word. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  said  Mrs.  Malcolm, 
"  since  I  find  that  ,you  —  at  least  Mr.  Weimar 
—  is  determined  to  push  it  as  far  as  he  can 
against  this  puir  fatherless  and  motherless 
bairn,  I  canna  reuain  from  say  in'  that  ye're 
a-goin'  to  commit  a  grievous  sin  ;  he's  no  more 


^H 


J   ;. 


W^\ 


220 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


guilty  than  I  am,  I  see  that  plainly  ;  and  some- 
thing tells  me  that  the  culprit  is  here  present  " 
Every  one  stared  at  her,  and  Mr.  Weimar 
asked  her  what  she  meant.     She  made  him  no 
reply,  for  her  eyes  had  been  fixed  on  Wilson's 
lace  with  a  look  of  intense  scrutiny,  and  when 
she  saw  him  shrink  before  her,  and  his  whole 
face    become  red   as   scarlet,   she    cried   out 
aloud,  pointing  to  him  with  her  finger :  "  Look 
there,  Mr.  Weimar !  look  there,  Mr.  Talbot  t 
1  d  wager  my  best  new  gown  that  there's  guilt, 
for  It  s  an  auld  saying  that  '  a  guilty  conscience 
needs   no    accuser.'      Look  at    him,    I   say 
and  then  look  at  Willy  Burke.     Do  you  see' 
ony  signs  o'  confusion  or  shame  about  himf 
JNa,  na!  for  he's  innocent;  but,  Georme  Wil- 
son, I  say,  before  God  and  man,  an'  I  care  na 
wha  hears  it,  that  you  took  away  that  parcel 
to  have  the  blame  fall  on  Willy  Burke." 
_^   "It's  a  lie,  —  a  black,  malicious  lie,* you  old 
Papist  hag !  "  cried  Wilson,  turning  pale  with 
anger.     "You    need    not   try  to   screen   the 
young  rascal,  for  the  gallows  will  have  its  due 
How  dare  you  accuse  me  of  any  such  thino-. 
I  told  you  a  little  while  ago,  and  I  tell  yo^u 
again,  to  beware  how  you  talk  to  me  in  such  a 
way.  ^    And  he  shook  his  clenched  fist  at  the 
old  woman,  who  only  smiled  at  his  impotent 
anger.  * 

Suddenly  Mr.  Talbot,  who  had  been  a  close 
thou,'h  silent   observer  of  this  ln«f   n,.,"o^.i^ 
was  seen  to  beclcon  Mr.  Weimar  apart.    After 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IX    AMERICA.  221 

a  few  words  spoken  together,  they  came  for- 
ward, and  Weimar  said  in  an  authoritative 
tone : 

"  Mrs.  MtJcolm,  j^ou  show  us  to  Mr.  Wil- 
son's room.  Wilson,  3'ou  give  me  de  key  of 
your  trunk." 

*'  I  haven't  it  about  me,  sir,"  was  the  con- 
fused reply. 

"  Find  it  for  me,  and  dat  quickly  too  ! " 

"\yell,  really,  Mr.  Weimar,"  said  Wilson, 
with  increasing  embarrassment,  "  I  must  pro- 
test against  my  trunk  being  examined.  I  do 
not  recognize  j^our  right  to  take  such  a  liberty  ; 
and  besides,  I  scarcely  know  where  to  look  for 
the  ke}'." 

"  Den  we'll  break  de  lock,  dat's  all.  Come 
all  of  you  to  Mr.  Wilson's  room  !  " 

"  Oh,  then,"  said  Wilson,  forcing  a  laugh, 
and  making  a  violent  effort  to  appear  gay, 
though  still  his  uneasiness  and  embarrassment 
were  distinctly  visible,  *'oh,  then,  there  would 
be  no  great  use  in  carrying  the  joke  farther, 
for  if  I  went  so  far  with  it  as  to  let  you  find  the 
money  in  my  trunk,  I  might  have  some  trouble 
in  persuading  you  that  it  was  a  joke.  Here  is 
the  key,  Mr.  Weimar.  Will  you  go  yourself, 
sir,  for  the  parcel,  or  shall  I? ' 

"So,  then,  it  was  j^ou  who  took  it,  Wil- 
son?" said  Mr.  Talbot,  an  indescribable  ex- 
pression of  satisfaction  lighting  up  his  fine  in- 
telleetual  features.  -  And  yet  you  would  have 
suffered    this  poor   boy  to  be  arrested  and 


222 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


III 


thrown  into  prison  had  it  not  been  for  Mrs. 
Malcolm's  keen  Scotch  penetration.  What  a 
fearful  aggravation  of  jonr  own  crime  !  " 

"  You  have  no  right  to  conclude,  sir,  that  I 
would  have  let  it  go  so  far  as  that,"  said  Wil- 
son in  a  confident  tone  ;  "  I  was  just  beginning 
to  think  that  it  was  time  to  acknowledge  the 
truth,  when  worthy  Mrs.  Malcolm  deprived  me 
of  the  opportunity.  However,  it  is  all  the 
same." 

"  An'  what  made  3'ou  be  sae  sair  fash'd  at 
my  putting  in  a  word,"  said  the  housekeeper, 
pointedly,  '^  gin  it  was  only  a  joke  you  were 
makin'.  Ah,  Mr.  Wilson,  Mr.  Wilson,  truth 
will  out !  You  thought  to  work  your  revenge 
on  Willy  Burke  (for  God  forbid  that  I'd  say 
you  intended  to  keep  the  money) ,  but  you  for- 
got that  he  remembers  his  Creator  in  the  days 
of  his  youths  and  tliat  the  great  and  good 
Master,  whom  he  serves,  never  forgets  his  ain, 
nor  gives  them  up  to  the  designs  of  the 
wicked." 

Mr.  Weimar  here  broke  in  impatiently: 
"Before  we  go  any  farder,  go  you,  Wilson, 
bring  the  money,  dat  de  first  ting."  While  he 
was  gone,  Mr.  Talbot  took  the  oj^portunity  to 
congratulate  Willy  Burke  on  his  innocence, 
assuring  him  that  the  loss  of  the  money  itself 
had  not  grieved  him  so  much  as  his  supposed 
guilt.  Even  Mr.  Weimar,  in  his  own  curt 
style,  expressed  his  sorrow  for  havino-  been  in- 
duced to  treat  him  so  harshly. 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


223 


the 


"  You  didn't  treat  me  harshh',  Mr.  Weimar,'* 
said  Willy,  "  beggin'  your  pardon,  sir,  for  3'ou 
couldn't  but  think  me  guilt}-,  an'  if  I  was,  I'd 
deserve  the  very  worst  of  treatment.  But  I 
knevv  all  along  that  God  wouldn't  desert  me 
when  I  most  wanted  his  help,  so  I  waited  as 
patiently  as  I  could  to  see  what  would  turn  up. 
Bui  I'm  sure  I  never  thought  that  any  of  the 
young  men  had  taken  the  money,  for  it  seemed 
to  me  that  it  must  have  fallen  on  the  floor  and 
got  into  some  dark  corner,  where  it  was  out  of 
sight.  Thanks  be  to  God  that  it  has  turned 
up,  at  any  rate  ! " 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Talbot,  "but  it  would 
appear  that  this  unhappy  young  man,  whether 
he  really  intended  to  keep  the  monej-  or  not, 
was  actuated  by  an  unholy  desire  of  revenge. 
Mrs.  Malcolm  has  just  now  been  telling  me 
how  this  Wilson  and  the  others  have  been  in- 
cessantly mocking  and  reviling  3-0:1  on  account 
of  your  religion,  and  also  the  conversation 
(for  one  of  the  young  men,  she  sa^s,  related 
it  to  her)  which  excited  Wilson's  hatred  so 
strongly.  Now  who  could  have  believed  him 
capable  of  such  depravity  ?  " 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  sir,"  said  Willy,  "  I  sup- 
pose he  only  meant  this  as  a  joke,  and  as  to 
all  that's  passed,  why  it  wasn't  worth  speak- 
ing of.  When  youngsters  like  us  get  together, 
many  a  thing  we'll  be  talkin'  about  that  isn't 

TTV/iLti     iv^^ctiv-iii  ,     tiii       trc     xwij^^u     J.V     till,     \JL      uixu 

most  of  it,  just  as  soon  as  it  is  passed.'* 


.4 


iru 


i't 


224 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


u 


God  bless  yon,  laddie,  God  bless  you!" 
was  Mrs.  Malcolm's  fervent  exclamation,  •'  for, 
sure  an*  certain,  you  are  one  o'  his  ain  faith- 
ful children,  that  you  are!"  Mr.  Talbot 
glanced  at  his  partner,  and  was  pleased  to  see 
that  the  old  man's  countenance  wore  a  softened 
and  even  kind  expression  as  he  looked  at 
Willy,  on  whose  sunny  features  not  a  cloud 
was  now  visible. 

Wilson  just  then  entered  the  room  and 
handed  thfc  parcel  to  Mr.  Weimar  with  another 
attempt  at  a  laugh,  though  his  cheek  was  d^^ed 
crimson.  "  There  it  is,  sir,"  he  said,  and  his 
voice  trembled  slightly,  "I  hope  you'll  for- 
give me  for  this  trick,  as  the  money  hasn't 
been  but  a  few  hours  in  my  possession,  and  —  " 
What  he  further  intended  to  say  was  cut  short 
by  Weimar,  who,  snatching  the  parcel  from 
his  hand,  exclaimed  angrily : 

*'  You  be  one  great  rascal,  dat  what  I  say, 
and  I  tink  you  deserve  to  be  sent  to  de  State's 
Prison.  I'm  very  sorry  dat  I  can't  have  you 
taken  up,  for  I'd  give  de  half  of  all  dis  money 
to  see  you  lodged  dere ;  and  dese  two  lads 
—  Hamilton  and  Davis  —  dey  help  you  up 
wit  your  wicked  plans ;  dey  walk  off,  too,  as 
well  as  you  —  " 

"  Why,  surely,  Mr.  Weimar,"  said  Hamil- 
ton, "  you  wouldn't  think  of  punishing  us  so 
severely  merely  for  helping  Mr.  Wilson  to 
carry  on  his  frolic?  I  am  quite  sure  that  we 
had  not 


the  RliofhtAsf.  infiantio»^ 


1.  ■ca.il.  y 


JOU 


I 


*( 


for, 
n  faith- 
Talbot 
I  to  see 
oftened 
ked  at 
L  cloud 

m  and 
mother 
-s  dyed 
nd  his 
'11  for- 
hasn't 
ad  —  " 
t  short 
I  from 

I  say, 
state's 
'6  you 
money 
0  lads 
)u  up 
00,  as 

lamil- 

us  so 

on  to 

lat  we 

1  wr       ^w% 


TIIE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  225 

juring  Willy  Burke  any  more  than  Wilson  had 
ot  retaining  your  money.  It  was  all  a  joke, 
sir,  indeed  it  was.  I  see  now  that  we  should 
not  have  takeu  such  a  liberty  when  your 
property  was  in  question,  but  when  no  serious 
harm  was  done,  or,  in  fact,  intended,  it  is 
rather  hard  that  we  should  lose  our  situations 
lor  a  harmless  trick." 

"  Yes,  you  call  it  harmless,  do  vou  ?  but  I 
call  It  wicked,  vile  plot.     You  all  hate  dis  boy 
i^urke,  because  he  Papist ;   you   tink   he  too 
much  favor  here,  den  you  put  your  heads  to- 
geder  and  make  a  plan  to  ruin  him.     I  don't 
say  dat  Wilson  meant  to  take  dat  money  for 
himself,  but  dat  no  excuse  ;  you  all  bad,  very 
bad,  very  wicked,  and  you  march,  all  three  of 
you.     You  go  and  make  jokes  like  dis  some 
Oder  place.'* 

.Mr.  Talbot  inquired  how  Wilson  had  got 
into  the  office,  and  was  answered  :  "By  means 
of  the  inner  door ;  which,"  said  he,  "  was  not 
locked,  as  you  supposed." 

"Well,"  said  Weimar,  motioning  with  his 
hand  for  all  to  leave  the  room,  "  de  night  is 
passing  away  ;  it  is  time  to  put  off  every  busi- 
ness for  de  morrow,  and,  Wilson,  do  you  hear? 
-— 3^ou  dat  can  make  such  fine  joke  — you 
I^milton,  and  Davis  must  all  come  to  my 
office  to-morrow  forenoon.  I'll  pay  you  up 
and  den  you  go  about  your  business."  ' 

u  i"  "'"4W.T^*^  ""^  *"  xA;acueu  iiie  sitting-room 
below,  Wilson  said  with  a  sneer :  "  I  hope,  Mr. 


''f 


^-  M 


■i'l  '  ' 


'  fl 


226 


WILLY   IJUKKE  ;     OR, 


Weimar,  as  you  propose  dismissing  us  from 
your  employment  chiefly  because  we  do  not 
carry   crucifixes   about   in   our   pockets,  that 
you'll  do  something  handsome  for  this  pious 
youth  who  practises  all  sorts  of  Popish  super- 
stitions."   Amazed  at  his  impudence,  all  the 
other  young  men  looked  anxiously  to  see  its 
effect  on  Mr.  Weimar  particularly,  whose  chol- 
eric temper  was  well  known  to  them  all.     To 
their  surprise  he  was  perfectly  cool,  though  the 
tremor   of  his  lip   denoted    strong    emotion. 
Rising  from  his  seat,  lie  assumed  an  air  of 
dignity  not  at  all  usual  with  him,  and  ordered 
Wilson  to  quit  the  room  instantly ;  he  would 
even  have  insisted  on  his  leaving  the  house, 
but  Mr.  Talbot  persuaded  him  to  let  him  re- 
main till  the  morrow. 

"  Come,  lads,"  said  Wilson,  addressing  his 
two  friends,  "  let  us  go  up  stairs.  Why  do 
you  stand  there,  looking  as  though  you  could 
cry?  If  you  had  a  particle  of  spirit,  you 
wouldn't  let  that  hypocritical  Burke  see  you 
so  dejected ;  you  know  very  well  how  he'll 
triumph  over  us.  Come  along !  "  But  they 
whom  he  addressed  were  not  at  all  disposed 
to  take  his  advice,  being  still  in  hopes  of  beino- 
forgiven,  so  they  both  refused  to  go  with  him° 
saying  that  they  had  been  but  too  long  under 
his  guidance.  A  sneering  laugh  was  Wilson's 
reply ;  but  as  he  passed  Willy  Burke,  on  his 
way  out,  he  said  aloud :  "  I've  missed  mv  aim 
this  time,  but  all  is  not  lost,  —your  brother  is 


THE   IRISH   ORPH..i,    IN   AMERICA.  227 


a 


m  our  hands,  and,  if  we  don't  make  h 
good  sound  Protestant,  my  name  is  not  Geuxye 
Av  ilson.     Remember  !  "  and  he  raised  his  frn^rer 
with  a  warning  gesture  as  he  left  the  room.° 

AYiUy  Burke  was  far  from  hearing  this 
threat  witho^it  emotion,  as  his  varying  color 
truly  tokl,  but  yet  it  did  not  prevent  him  from 
doing  what  he  thought  his  duty.  Going,  then, 
up  to  Mr.  Weimar  and  Mr.  Talbot,  where  they 
stood  together  near  the  fireplace,  he  said  in  a 
low  voice :  "  Might  I  venture,  gentlemen,  to 
ask  you  a  favor,  now  that  you  know  that  I'm 
not  guilty  of  that  crime  ?  " 

tit"^^^'  ^^^  ^^^*  y^^  please,  Willy,"  said 
Mr.  Talbot,  kindly  taking  his  hand.  "  I  know 
very  well  that  you  will  make  no  unreasonable 
request." 

"  Well,  sir,  if  you  and  Mr.  Weimar  wouldn't 
think  it  too  great  a  liberty  for  me  to  take,  I'd 
ask  you  to  forgive  Mr.  Wilson  and  the  other 
young  men.  They're  all  longer  in  the  place 
than  I  am,  and  as  you  never  found  any  of  them 
dishonest  before  now,  it  is  plain  that  it  was  only 
meant  for  a  joke.  And  then  it  would  be  hard  if 
they'd  be  sent  away  on  my  account,  that's  only 
a  stranger,  after  all.  That's  what  I  wanted  to 
say,  gentlemen,  but  I  didn't  like  to  come  up  to 
speak  to  you  before  Mr.  Wilson." 

"Now  Weimar,"  said  Talbot, without  reply- 
ing to  Willy,  "  you  heard  what  Wilson  said  to 
mm  as  he  left  the  room, —  so  that  you  have 
before  you  all  his  conduct,  and  yet  you  hear 


228 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


ri 


him  sue  for  pardon  for  that  perseverino-  foe. 
What  think  you  now?"  and  ho  addcdfin  a 
lower  voice,  "  see  if  this  be  not  the  effecf.  of 
his  rehgious  principles?" 

Weimar  without  any  direct  reply,  turned  at 
once  to  A\  illy,  and  affecting  a  sternness  wliieh 
was  far  from  his  real  feeling  at  the  moment, 
ho  said  rather  sharply  :  "  You  not  in  oarnest 
--.you  only  make  believe  dat  you  forgive  liim 
Dat  s  not  .natural,  dat  you'd  be  asking  us  to 
pardon  him,  and  he  so  black  against  you  — 
I  don't   tink  dat's   possible !    what  you  say 
boy?  —  !  no  like  people  dat  make  b'lieve  — 
better  say  nothing  about  it !  " 

f    V^fj-f:".  ?^'l^  ^^^"^''  "  *^  t^"  y^^  the 
truth,  I  did  jBnd  It  hard  to  bring  myself  to  do 

It,  for  It  is  unnatural  —  I  know  that.  I  must 
own  that  I  was  angry  with  Mr.  Wilson  when  I 
found  out  what  he  had  done,  and  it's  only 
there  a  little  while  ago  that  I  got  the  better 
of  my  anger.  But  I  did,  sir,  thanks  be  to  God, 
I  did  get  the  better  of  it,  and  I  can  solemnly 
assure  you  that  I  never  asked  any  favor  with 
more  sincerity  than  I  ask  you  and  Mr.  Talbot 
to  overlook  these  young  men's  fault,  and  keep 
them  m  their  situations." 

*'  But  how  did  you  get  the  better  of  your 
anger,  as  you  say  yourself?"  persisted  Weimar, 
while  Mr.  Talbot,  Mrs.  Malcolm,  and  even  Mr 
Dawson  looked  eagerly  for  the  answer. 

t.u  1[^^^'  ^''''.  ^'^^  J""^*  *^^^  ^'^^  ^^«^-    ^hen  I 
.$,v  v«c  passiou  strong  upon  me,  and  couldn't 


THE    IllISll    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA.  229 

even  boar  to  look  at  Mr.  Wilson  in  the  room 
above,  I  put  my  hand  in  my  pocket  for  my 
ancLcerclnef  and  it  came  n^ht  on  tho  crucifix 
that  I  had  put  back  into  my  pocket  w  hide  it 
from  any  more  insult." 

"And  what  den,- what  did  de  crucifix  do, 

u77   vT^^  ^,?^  ^^'^^''^  ^^"^^n^  I  s'pose?" 
It  ^li^^   sir,"  said   Willy,  heedless  of  the 
tone  m  which  the  other  spoke ;    "  that  is,  it 
reminded   me   in   a  minute   of  all    that   our 
blessed  Saviour  suffered  from  wicked  men,  and 
how  he  died  on  the  cross  to  save  all  mankind - 
if  it  isnt  their  own  fault -even  the  very  Jews 
that  put  him  to  death  ;  then  I  remembered  how 
he  prayed  for  them  with  his  last  breath,  and  I 
saw  at  once  what  a  grievous  sin  it  was  for  me 
to  be  so  angry  with  Mr.  Wilson  for  such  a 
trifling  cause,  so  I  begged  that  Jesus  Christ 
vould  grant  me  the  grace  to  forgive  him,  and 
very  soon  I  felt  my  heart  softened  and  my 
anger  dying  away,  and  I  knew  that  God  had 
indeed  heard  my  prayer.     That's  the  truth,  sir, 
whether  3^ou  believe  it  or  not !  " 

"  I  do  ;  I  do  b'lieve  you,  and  since  daf  s  de 
J,^-];3'r„<^^t'lics  use  de  crucifix,  to  make  tink 

^i«    TMi  '        ''^''"\  ^"^  ^"^  ^""'Siye  deir  ene- 
mies, 1 11  never  make  mock  of  it  any  more 

f>ere  now,  we  say  no  more  dis  night,  but  you 

just  go  on  the  same,  Willy  Burked  don't  mind 

when  some  one  laughs  at  you  as  I  did  while 

<=■  '  ^—~o-^  ---  v^"«xv.ii,  ixuu  nay  your  pravers, 


!• 


iff 


I 


»aJ:J 


230 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


mid  stiKljde  crucifix, -I  neve*  tell  you  any 
more  not  to  do  dem  tin"-.s."  ^ 

Tn]hnrL-l\'  f^^«^«'  '^^^-  Weimar?"  asked 
lalbot,  with  sly  emphasis.  "  I9  he  still  to 
keep  clear  of  them,  as  I  once  heard  you  tell 

"  Ah  !  dat's  de  point  -  dat's  de  worst  of  it ; 
3  ou  Popish  people  so  much  afraid  of  de  priests 
you  can't  do  nothing  widout  deir  leave  Let 
me  alone  about  de  priests." 

"  A^t  ^^u*  "'^"  ^^""^*  pretend  to  say,"  ob- 
served Talbot,  unwilling  to  mve  ud  the  noinf 
so  easily    ^  that  Willy^'Burke  asLf  S' 

^faltr  &  ^^  '^^^^^^'^  ^^^-^'  -^  -- 

"  I  know  dat,  I  know  dat,  but  what  for  you 
say  so  r  -^ 

"Why  simply  this,"  replied  Talbot,  "that 

whatever  j-ou  admire  and  approve  of  in  this 

young   lad's  conduct  is  the  teaching  of  to 

prists  reduced  to  practice,  and  ttarbecause 

they  are  the  expounders  of  the  Divine  law, 

and  guide  their  people  according  to  its  pre^ 

cepts.     Well,  well  would  it  be  for  societj^-1 

cTtLlTf  ?°«'f.>--;^ere  all  who  profess  the 

Catholic  faith  t„  follow  the  advice  and  prae- 

^!%  t^^ '«f  ons  they  receive  from  their  priests 

as  faithfully  as  does  this  humble  youth     Per! 

haps^is  not  well  for  me  to  speak  so  before 

you,  Willy,"  he  added,  addressing  the  latter! 

'nor  would  I  venture  to  do  sof  but  that  I 

believe    you    too     firmlv    oto.i...i«^    ,•„    xV. 


any 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  231 

maxims  of  true  piety  to  be  puffed  up  or  elated 
by  human  praise." 

"Oh  no,  sir,"  said  Willy,  modestly,  "  I  hope 
Cxod  Will  never  let  me  forget  myself  so  far  as 
to  become  proud  ;  but  now  there's  no  great 
danger,  sir,  for  I  understand  very  well  that  it's 
to  our  holy  religion  the  merit  goes,  and  not  to 
me." 

"Well,  well,"  said  Weimar,  "let  us  o-q 
now.  Come,  Talbot,  we'll  talk  of  dis  anoder 
time,  for  I  do  begin  to  tink  dat  some  religion 
IS  good  after  all."  "^ 

.  ''^J}^  ^^  *^^i"k  I'"  said  Dawson,  approach- 
ing Willy  as  the  gentlemen  left  the  room,  and 
he  shook  his  hand  warmly.  "I,  too,  am 
convinced  that  religion  is  even  nee  ;ary  for 
the  good  of  society,  and  this  night  uas  con- 
lirmed  me  in  the  opinion  that  the  Catholic  re- 
ligion is  the  best  of  L,  -  in  fact  the  only  one 
that  can  control  uie  heart  and  bend  the  stub- 
born will  of  man." 

"Well,"  said  Willy  Burke,  a  ;  they  ascend- 
ed the  stairs  together,  "  I  can't  tell  you  how 
glad  I  am  to  hear  you.  say  so  ;  it's  such  a  glo- 
rious thing  to  see  a  soul  coming  back  from  the 
way  of  error  into  the  right  road  -~  the  road 
that  leads  to  heaven.  May  God  gi-ant  you  the 
grace  to  persevere  to  the  end  !  " 

"  I  hope  3^ou'll  not  forget  me  in  your  prayers 
then,"  said  Dawson. 

"No,  no,"  replied  Willy ,  witii  unaffected  fer- 
vor,  -  lor  there's  nothing  more  delightful  to 


1'^ 


i 


232 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


thot'n  fl  ^''"*  ""rn'  in.  where  they  know 
they  II  find  a  safe  shelter.     You  may  be  sure 

llf^^  t  ^'°^  ■  "    They  then  bade  each  other 
good-night,  and  each  went  his  way  to  his  room' 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA.         233 


)Ut- 
lOW 

lire 
her 
>iii. 


CHAPTER  XL 


THE   REVENGE. 


r^N  the  following  morning  Wilson  was  paid 
^-^    off  and  dismissed,  with  a  friendly  admo- 
nition from  Mr.  Talbot,  warning  him  of  the 
danger  of  gi.ving  way  to  his  passions,  and  re- 
minding   him  how  the  disgraceful    scene  of 
the  night  before,  and  the  consequent  loss  of 
his   situation,   were  but  the  sequel   of   that 
memorable  conversation   wherein  he   had  so 
wantonly  (though  perhaps  without  any  great 
degree  of  malice)  attacked  Willy  Burke,  on 
the  score  of  his  religion.     "  Revenge,"    said 
Mr.  Talbot,  "  is  at  all  times  an  unholy  feeling, 
and  if  indulged,  will  often  be  found  to  recoil 
on  the  head  of  him  who  worked  it  for  another. 
Thus  you  promised  to  be  revenged  on  Burke 
merely  because  he  put  a  sudden  stop  to  your 
ridicule  of  his  religion  and  itb  priests.     Well, 
you  have  done  your  utmost,— you  have  made  a 
desperate  effort  to  fulfil  your  vow,  and  here  it 
is  yourself  who  suffer.     You  sought  to  blacken 
and  defame  that  virtuous  lad,  and  the  result  of 
your  machinations  has  been  to  establish  his 
character  on  a  firmer  basis  than  ever,  so  that 


•:U: 


234 


WILLY   BURKE  :     OR, 


our  opinion  of  him  cannot  be.  again  changed, 
while  3-ou  are  dismissed  from  a  situation  which 
3'ou  had  filled  for  two  years  before  we  knew 
him,  and  go  forth  suspected,  so  that  nothing 
could  induce  us  to  recommend  j^ou  to  any  office 
of  trust.  Take  my  word  for  it,  Wilson,  that  the 
safest  road,  even  in  a  worldly  point  of  view, 
is  the  way  of  God's  commandments.  The  way 
of  sin  and  error  will  never  bring  j^ou  to  true 
happiness,  even  limiting  the  expression  to  the 
happiness  of  this  life." 

"  At  any  rate,"  was  the  answer,  "  I  don't 
want  to  be  schooled  so.  I  guess  I'm  quite 
able  to  take  care  of  myself,  and  to  judge  for 
myself  too.  I,  at  least,  M'r.  Talbot,  will 
never  submit  my  judgment  to  that  of  any 
other ;  I  leave  that  to  Papists,  who  '  hear  the 
Church.'  As  for  losing  my  situation,  I  don't 
care  a  straw  about  it  —  the  loss  ain't  much." 

Mr.  Talbot  only  smiled  —  it  was  a  smile  of 
pity  —  but  Mr.  Weimar  raised  his  head  from 
the  desk  where  he  had  been  writing,  and 
angrily  ordered  him  to  quit  the  place  in- 
stantly. 

"  If  you  speak  anoder  word  here,"  he  said 
sternlj',  "I'll  have  de  porters  kick  you  out. 
How  dare  you  speak  so  to  Mr.  Talbot,  after 
we  let  you  oif  so  easy,  widout  making  ever}-- 
body  know  what  great  scoundrel  you  are  ?  Go 
off,  I  say,  or  you'll  not  be  glad  for  staying." 

"  I  will  go,  old  ginger- face,"  said  Wilson, 
his  cheek  pale  with  the  intensity  of  his  passion, 


THE   IRIgH   ORPHAN  IN  AMERICA. 


235 


"  but  be  sure  that  I'll  cherish  the  remembrance 
of  your  parting  words." 

At  the  special  request  of  Mr.  Talbot,  the 
other  two  lads  were  kept,  as  their  guilt  had 
been  much  less  than  that  of  Wilson,  on  whose 
instigation  they  had  solely  acted.  Willy 
Burke  was  forthwith  placed  in  the  situation 
left  vacant  by  Wilson's  departure,  and  so  far 
all  went  well. 

Next  evening  Willy  went  to  see  his  sisters, 
and  gave  Mrs.  Williams  an  account  of  what 
had  happened  on  the  preceding  day,  conceal- 
ing, however,  the  name  of  the  delinquent. 
The  little  girls  cried  bitterly  when  they  heard 
of  the  -  0  trial  their  brother  had  undergone, 
while  Williams  could  onlj^  raise  her  hands 

and  eyea  towards  heaven  in  silent  thankfulness, 
for  her  heart  was  full  of  joy  and  gratitude  on 
hearing  the  beautiful  morality  of  the  religion 
.she  loved  so  fully  vindicated  and  so  triumph- 
antly proved.  Willy  had  studiously  avoided 
taking  any  merit  to  himself,  giving  to  God,  as 
a  Christian  should,  all  the  merit  and  all  the 
praise  ;  yet  Mrs.  Williams  extended  her  hand 
to  him  when  he  had  concluded,  and  said,  while 
the  glow  of  genuine  feeling  lit  up  her  faded 
cheek : 

"  May  the  Lord  bless  you,  my  child  —  and 
bless  you  he  will  —  for  you  make  it  your  chief 
care  to   do  his  hol}^  will,  as  in  duty  bound. 

(rf)  on  as  vnn  jita  orninrr    nnrl   ho  qaanvorl  f  hof  \^r\ii 

will  pass   unscathed  through   the  fire  of  this 


4 
jfi 


in 


236 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OR, 


world's  temptations  and  allurements  —  they 
cannot  harm  those  who  are  strong  in  faith  and 
humble  in  heart. " 

"Ah,  but,  Mrs.  Williams,"  said  Willy,  with 
a  sudden  change  of  manner,  "  what  is  to  be- 
come of  poor  unfortunate  Peter?  I'm  afraid 
what  I  heard  is  too  true,  for  he  hinted  it  to 
me  plainly  enough  after  we  left  here  on  that 
Sunday  evening  when  we  last  called  to  see 
you.  I  wish,"  he  added  with  a  sigh,  "  that 
Father  FitJzherbert  was  come  back,  maybe  he 
could  do  something  with  him,  for  Father  6'Hara 
doesn't  know  him  at  all.  At  any  rate,  I  think 
I'll  go  this  very  night  and  ask  his  ad\ice." 

"  Do,  Willy,"  said  Mrs.  Williams,  "  and  I'd 
have  you  go,  too,  and  try  to  see  poor  Peter. 
I  wish  you  could  get  him  to  come  oftener  here, 
so  that  we  might  reason  with  him,  and  try  to 
make  him  understand  the  danger  he's  in. 
Alas !  it  was  an  evil  day  for  him,  poor  mis- 
guided boy,  when  he  went  back  to  these  peo- 
ple." 

"  You  may  say  that,  Mrs.  Williams,"  said 
Willy,  mournfully,  "  for  if  God  hasn't  forbid  it 
they'll  rob  him  of  what  little  faith  he  has,  — 
poor  fellow,  he  never  could  be  got  to  read  any 
books  that  would  have  instructed  him  in  re- 
ligious matters,  neither  would  he  go  to  hear 
sermons  ;  and  how  could  he  know  much  about 
his  own  religion  —  so  they  know  that  very  well 
—  these  people  that  he's  o-nt  in  wifh  __L  on/i 
they're  the  very  set  that  can  take  advantage 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IX    AMERICA.  237 

Of  his  ignorance.     Oh,  girls  !  "  he  added,  ad- 
dressing his  young  sisters  with  a  burst  of  ten- 
der emotion  tliat  brought  t^iars  to  his  eyes, 
oh,  girls  !   If  our  poor  mother  or  father  was 
alive  and  see  their  son  on  the  way  of  turnino-  his 
back  on  the   holy  Church  of  God  —  but'' it's 
well  they  re  not  living  to  see  that,  for  I'm  sura 
It   would  break  their  hearts  —  pray  for  him, 
Bridget  and  Alice,"  he  said,  as  he  arose  and 
took  his  cap,  wiping  the  tears  from  his  eyes  at 
the  same  time,  »  and  you,  Mrs.  Williams,  you'll 
be  mindful  of  him  in  your  prayers  - 1  know  you 
will.  *^ 

"Indeed,  I  will,  Willy,  dear,  — may  the 
Liora  in  his  mercy  hear  our  prayers  '  " 

"And  Willy,"  said  Alice,  running  after  her 
brother  to  the  door,  "  don't  forget  to  tell  Peter 
that  Bridget  and  I  are  praying  for  him  to  the 
Blessed  Virgin  —  our  Mother  in  heaven  —  that 

>'.J^%  t^^  ^""^  *^  ^^^P  ^ini  in  the  true 
faith.  Tell  him  that,  Willy,  and  tell  him  that 
If  he  leaves  the  Church  we  can't  love  him  as 
well  as  we  do  now,  for  it'll  be  so  wicked  of 
him  that  God  will  be  very  angry  with  him 
and  then  we  oughtn't  to  love  him  as  welL  you 
know."  *  -^ 

,  "  Yes,  yes,  Alice  dear,  I'll  be  sure  to  tell 
him,     said  Willy,   as  he  stooped  to  kiss  the 
fair  foreiiead  of  his  little  sister.     "  Go  in  now 
dear,    and    God    bless    you    till  I   see    yoJ 


\ 


ncrmn 
~o — " 


f  " 


Willy  went  straight  to  Father  O'Hara,  but 


238 


WILLY    BUKKK  ;     OR, 


he  had  not  reached  his  house  when  he  met 
Dawson,  who  had  been  going  in  quest  of  him 
to^  Mrs.  Williams's.  *'  Do  you  know,  Willv," 
said  he,  "  that  I  want  you  to  come  with  me'^to 
your  confessor.  Father  O'llara,  as  I  should 
like  to  have  a  conversation  with  him  regard- 
ing some  little  doubts  which  I  cannot  find  solved 
in  the  books  you  lent  me.  Can  you  take  time 
to  come  now  ? " 

"  With  all  my  heart !  "  returned  Willy,  "  for 
the  truth  Is  that  I'm  just  on  my  way  to  speak 
to  Father  O'Hara  about  my  brother,  so  come 
along !  I  know  there's  no  use  in  hiding  my  poor 
brother's  affairs  from  you,  for  you  heard  the 
whole  story  long  ago." 

In  going  to  Father  O'Hara's  house  it  was 
necessary  to  pass  through  the  street  in  which 
Mr.  Talbot's  dwelling-house  was  situated  ;  and 
the  two  friends  were  just  within  sight  of  the 
door,  when  a  little  before  them,  just  where  a 
narrow,  dark  street,  or  rather  alley,  opened  on 
the  broader  street,  they  saw  a  gentleman,  who 
had  been  walking  slowly  onward,  suddenly 
struck  down  by  a  person  who  instantly  disap- 
peared down  the  dark  alley.  The  moon  was 
shinmg  brightly,  but  the  cowardly  assailant 
hafl  taken  his  stand  on  the  shady  side  of  the 
street,  and  he  was,  moreover,  muffled  up  so 
closely  about  the  neck  and  face  that  it  would 
have  been  difficult  to  ascertain  his  identity, 
even  if  quite  close  to  him ;  but  yet  Dawson  ex- 
claimed in  an  audible  whisper :  "  Why,  Willy," 


J> 


^- 


ME  IRISH  ORPHAN  IN  AMERICA.        239 

and  he  caught  his  arm,  "  look  there  -I'm  not 
liere  il  tliat  ain't  Wilson  '  " 

"Mush  hush!"  said' the  other  quickly 
'  never  mind  who  it  was  _  let  us  run  to  heln 
the  poor  man  that's  lying  on  the  groTncV'      '^ 

All  this  had  been  the  work  of  a  moment  • 

ZiZfU^r"^  "''''  '-''y  ^''^  persrsTe  e 
passing  that  way  at  the  time,  Willy  and  his 

friend  were  the  first  that  reached    he  fallen 
wt^i,    I     .7^'  ^S"=   ^""^  1"«  face    down- 

behbd    and  r  h"""""   '^'"'   ^"'"'"^   ^^  f™^ 
lo,«  Win       ^?^  appeared  entirely  motion- 

he':'dTad  ["'"■"'  ""'  "^  '''™'  "0»^.  Dawson, 
By  this  time  several  persons  had  gathered 
around,   and  it  was  proposed  to  cfrry  tte 
gentleman  to  the  nearest'^  surgeon.     He  was 
taken  up  by  three  or  four  stout  men,  who  w^' 
walking  off  as  fast   as  their  heav'y  b„X 
would  permit,  when,  having  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  face   on  which  death  seemed  alrfaX  to 
liave  placed  his  seal,  Willy  and  DawsTcried 
out  together:  "My  God  .'-it's  Mr.Wetoar." 
And  for  a  moment  both  were  so  terrified  that 
they  could  not  utter  a  word.    The  m^n,  scefn,^ 
that  they  knew  who  the  gentleman  ^^as    fe 
stantly  stopped,  and  Dawson,  as  soon  as  he 
could  find  voice  to  speak,  cried  ou  :  "  Don'? 
take  him  to  any  hospital  —  if  you'll  onK  be 

-"""-"^  '^^^  proceeded  to  Mr.  Tal- 
bot s,   where  poor  Weimar  resided  with  the 


III 


w 


240 


WILLY    BURKE  :     OR, 


family,  having  himself  neither  wife  nor  child. 
When  Dawson  rang  the  door-bell,  the  sound 
startled  all  the  family  within,  as  he  had  uncon- 
ciously  given  it  a  violent  shake,  for  his  hand 
trembled  so  that  he  could  scarcely  command 
its  motion. 

Mr.  Talbot  and  his  wife,  with  several  ser- 
vants, all  ran  to  the  door,  and  what  a  spectacle 
awaited  their  eyes  !  There  was  poor  Mr.  Wei- 
mar carried  in,  apparently  dead — his  gray 
hair  streaming  around  his  face,  for  his  head 
was  of  course  uncovered.  His  hat  had  been 
forgotten  on  the  street. 

"Good  God!"  cried  Mr.  Talbot,  "what 
terrible  accident  has  happened  to  Mr.  Weimar  ? 
What!  Dawson  and  Burke  here?  —  what  is 
the  meaning  of  all  this  ?  " 

But  Mrs.  Talbot  here  interposed  with: 
"  Nay,  Henry,  the  first  thing  is  to  see  to  poor 
Mr.  Weimar.  There  will  be  time  enoueh  to 
inquire  how  this  occurred.  Will  you  be^kind 
enough  to  carry  him  up  stairs  to  his  bed-room  ?  " 
she  said,  addressing  the  men. 

"Certainly,  ma'am,"  said  they,  "but  it's 
to  be  feared  that  he  may  be  put  anywhere  j^ou 
like,  for  there  ain't  a  move  in  him." 

"  Oh,  I  trust  in  God's  mercy  that  the  case  is 
no{  quite  so  bad  !  But  come  along  at  once,  for 
it  behooves  us  to  apply  some  restorative  as  soon 
as  may  be."  And  Mrs.  Talbot,  snatching  a 
candle   from  a   servant,  showed  the  way  u» 


THE  IRISH  OEPHAN  IN  AMERICA.         241 

walking  on  before  Z  nn  7^  PT.^'"  ■"'«™'"- 
we  saw  a  neroonM!.      ^.  .  "  ^^^  ''^  —  when 

for  hi^^cat^rLt:  thrb'f  ^" 

assananf^rrCn  bT^rU^^^^^^ 

was  lying  on  hnaci/anrwTdMnTk  ""'? 
Snt^i"..*^^  '"^  -^'^  ^ir  in^"oTe' 

Have  you  anysuspfir:,?^  XmTS^ 

"  To  th»  v>w    t"*""  "^"^  J"«'  answering,  — 

bot  ~-  when  Wn?5  rv''"-T'''''S'''  Mr.  ^Tal- 
«aying  ejerrrf "'  2"^^^  .interrupted  him  by 

"  W'hy,  indeed,  sir.  we  wfron't  „„_ 
to  say  positively  who  ilwaT  and  i?        *"T°'' 
guess  at  any  one  we  m.Vht'  ?.^  "'"'*  *'' 

better  for  us  onlv  tnt^  °        u  '^''""S'  s"  it's 


IP 

I 

i 


242 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


Dawson  looked  askance  at  Willy,  and  smiled 

Sllglltlj'. 

Mr.  Talbot  looked  hard  at  the  animated  face 
ot  the  speaker,  and  then  he  shook  his  head 
doubtmgly,  but  he  contented  himself  with  say- 
ing :  *'And  yet  the  boy  is  right ;  "  and  toiling 
the  young  men  to  follow,  he  hurried  ud 
stairs.  ^ 

One  of  Mr.  Talbot's  little  children  met  him 
above,  with  the  glad  tidings  that  Mr.  Weimar 
was  not  dead :  "  Mother  says  he  was  only 
m  a  swoon,  father,  and  now  he  bekins  to 
move."  ^ 

When  Mr.  Talbot  entered  the  room,  his  wife 
beckoned  him  to  approach,  and  told  him  in  a 
whisper  that  Mr.  Weimar  was  already  show- 
mg  symptoms  of  recovery,  having  even 
opened  his  eyes  for  a  moment.  "  But,"  said 
she,  "  I  much  fear  that  his  mind  may  be  de- 
ranged, for  nothing  could  be  wilder  than  the 
glance  he  gave  around.  You  should  send  at 
once  for  Dr,  Hammond." 

The  doctor  was  accordingly  sent  for,  but 
before  he  arrived  the  patient  had  somewhat  re- 
covered, and, 'to  Mrs.  Talbot's  great  ioy,  he 
seemed  perfectly  sensible.  When  asked  if  he 
felt  any  pain,  he  said  in  a  faint,  languid  voice  : 
"  1  es,  dere  s  much  pain  in  de  back.  I  tink 
dere  s  some  bone  broken  dere.  But  my  head  " 
--and  he  raised  his.  hand  to  his  forehead  — 
oh,  dat's  ^worser  —  my  head  is  bad  — very 
baa  —  just  here," 


THE  „!,s„   ORPHAN   IN  AMF.BIOA.         243 

"  Mr.  WelmL>s  h°  ,,r  ';,"  ^ey  «'>'-w."'*  «'««• 
cated,  but  that  i,  m  '  ^'":?  ''«'  *"  <"sIo- 
tion ;  it  s  that  mh  'i  '\rT'''"'>'  «on«i'lMa- 

com,;iains  S  Ss  no  t^^^T?'"  '^'"^"^  '>« 
Ity  is  that  thoi"h  ,,o  „„  t  ,  ^-^^  P'obabil- 
hi«  liead  may  have  K?«f?-  ,  "'  ^'S"  "I'Peiis, 
jury  from  the  fnlf  t  •  1'"°''  "''"«  serious  i,,: 

voice  toM^-    Talbot    in?  T^  '^''^  '"  "  '"'^ 

and  the  doctor  gtnTl  'al^'^'-  :^'=""''»'' 
fectiv  lu  et'"r^;'"'*'^  >"*^"  ""^t  be  k'ept  Jet 

OMI.  room,  and  he  ^at  K  LV/-: 

n^afsiid  •  tri  itr  vr  w^n.  ^-'  ^-^^  -"^ 

do  doctor  tells  me  and  dori  •  " '''°T''  '*«" 
/-.•«,"  placing  his  h;„"  on  h L  che:?Td'';f  /i" 
me  to  prepare  for  deat^  Jh-ralbot  d^T  fn 
me  once  about  your  modor  ^w  r  i  f "'  *^" 
as  the  Driest  fpfl  h"„"Tl'.''"* '"'«•  «°  l>app.v, 

WUly  'Buike"iin'"lL   "  ""^"^  '^"  ""-'  a  Cat'lic, 
J'  iJurjce,  an    den    per'aps    I'll    bave  a 


5;     I 


244 


WILLY   BURKE  I     OR, 


1^ 


chance.  You  go  fetch  de  priest  here,  tell  him 
come  quick,  for  dat  a  great  sinner  is  going  to 
die,  and  wants  to  be  received  into  God's 
Cliurch  before  he  leaves  dis  world.  Go  fast  — 
fast,  boy !  and  den  come  back  here,  for  I  want 
you  stay  wid  me ;  it  was  you  make  me  tink 
first  about  religion  ;  then  Talbot  lent  me  great 
many  good  books  dat  showed  me  de  danger  I 
was  in,  but  if  the  good  God  will  save  my  soul, 
I  may  tank  you,  after  him ;  'cause  I  see  you 
not  like  oder  boys  at  all,  but  good,  very  good  ; 
and  den  when  I  found  you  so  good  Cut'lic,  and 
doing  just  what  your  priest  told  you,  I  said  to 
my  own  self,  '  I  must  see  what  dis  religion  of 
his  is,'  and  den  God  gave  me  de  light  to  see. 
Go  now ! " 

"Well,  sir,"  said  Willy,  struggling  to  re- 
stram  his  tears,  "  I'll  have  Father  O'Hara  here 
in  ten  minutes,  with  God's  help,  and  I'm  sure 
I'm  both  proud  and  happy  to  go  on  such  an 
errand  for  you,  though  I  hope  there's  no  dan- 
ger of  your  death.  At  any  rate,  sir,  I'll  go  as 
fast  as  my  legs  will  carry  me." 

After  telling  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Talbot,  in  a  low 
voice,  where  he  was  going,  Willy  hurried  away. 
The  doctor  then  approached  Mr.  Weimar's 
bed,  and  renewed  his  injunctions  regarding  the 
stillness  and  repose  which  could  alone,  he  said 
save  his  patient's  life.  "  I  have  allowed  you," 
said  he,  "  to  finish  your  conversation  with  that 
young^  lad,  but^it  must  absolutely  be  the  last. 
A  must  not,  and  shali  not,  permit  you  to  speak 


II 


THE    lUISH    ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA.  245 

to  any  one  on  any  topic  whatsoever,  until  I 
see  how  matters  will  go." 

*'Ycs  but,  doctor,  (lis  is  all  de  matter  of 
my  soul ;  you  know  very  well  dat  I  mav  die 
very  soon,  and  what  will  become  of  my  poor 

r  .  L"""^  ^''y  ^^  "^^^1*^  "^v  account  wid 
de  great  Master  of  us  all  ?  De'  greater  danger 
1  m  in,  dere  s  de  more  need  dat  I  tink  of  mv 
soul ;  'cause  I've  neg)...,-  it  too  long,  arS  T^ 
no  more  time  to  losr/'  ^'     ''*  "^  ^® 

Ji  Well;  I  warn  yo  j/  said  the  doctor,  "  that 
any  exciting  conver. '.,>,-:  may  cause  your 
death,  and  that  very  suddenly  ;  ^so  if  you^wm 
see  the  clergyman  now,  and  .nUr  upon  a  long 
discourse  with  him,  I  will  not  answer  for  the 
consequences. ' 

«  rifV?  '  f  r"""  ^^  "*"'«  y°"  Protestant ; 
a  Cat  he  would  say,  'Miud  de  soul  first,  'cause 
j;ott  may  soon  have  to  go  before  de  Judge ' 
He  poor  body  is  not  so  much  to  tink  of,  doctor 

and  get  inside  de  'one  fold,'  before  de  Great 
Shepherd  ealls     If   dat  makes  me  die^  „o 

Gof^//*  '*''"  ""  °"'^'  "^y  ^y'  fo'I  hope 
God  will  spare  my  soul,  when  he  gave  me  de 

grace  to  see  de  right  road  to  heavei^" 

The   doctor  drew  back   in   sullen  silence 

;^*"'°''  °^?yi°g  a  sign  fl-om  Weimar,  an- 
proached  his  bed.  »',   ap 

"  Now,  Talbot,"  said  the  old  man,  "  you 


fi 


f 


m 


246 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OU, 


just  tell  mo  how  dis  happened.     I  only  re- 
member dat  I  got  a  great  blow  on  de  back  dat 
made  me  feel  as  if  mj  heart  was  broke  in  two 
and  den  I  felt,-  dat's  all  I  know."  ' 

And  none  of  us  know  any  more  of  fhn 
matter,"  said  Talbot,  in  replj^^^even 
Dawson  or  Burke,  who  were  both  walkl^" 
after  you  and  saw  jou  receive  the  blow.     The 

had  dealt  the  blow,  whereupon  they  came  up 
and  finding  u  was  you,  they  came  here   w"th 
the  men  who  brought  you  home." 

anJv^'Xof'i'^  ^K-™"'  "^  *  S'^"-"  "f  fierce' 
anger  shot  from  his  eye,  "ha!    I  know    I 

know  dat  rascal  Wn^on;  aye,  he  said  he'd 
meet  me,  and  so  he  did.  But  I'll  have  him 
hanged  for  dis -dat  is,  you  will,  Talbot,  ff  I 
die.  I  wouldn't  rest  in  peace  if  dat  fellow 
wasn't  punished  for  his  crimes.  Curses  on 
nim,  de  black  villain !  " 

TaZr^S;'"  '*^'  ^«™«'-'"  interposed 
,1  ,V  ,  °°*  ^P^'''^  ^'^ ;  you  will  certainly  do 
yourself  harm,  and  it  was  very  wron<r  of  me 

^t!T:  '?  •"  rr«»«on  with  you  o'n  so  e"! 
citing  a  sn  rject.  Not  a  word,  now,  as  you  value 
mj' friendship  !    Hush,  here'^  the  doctoi"" 

But  just  at  the  moment  F.rfher  O'Hara  was 
announced,  and  Weimar  exclaimed  joyfuUy' 
"Oh    den,  doctor,  you  don't  speak  one  word' 

«™!,  T  T  7'^  ^^  P™«''  'lo  doctor  oT  my 
,n^  A  ""f  ^  ''''  ^'^  P"'-*'  <1«°  I  listen  to  ySj, 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA.  247 

*'Mjdear  Mr.  Talbot,"  said  the  priest  as 
he  warmly  shook  hands  with  that  gentleman, 
this  IS  a  triily  melancholy  affair,  but  yet,  see 
how  the  Lord  draweth  good  from  what  ipp'ears 
to  us  evil.  Had  Mr.  Weimar  no  pi4vious 
thoughts  of  becoming  a  Catholic >»      i''^^^^"« 

u  j2h  ^'^''  r^  • "  ^'^^^ai«^ed   the   patient ; 

I  read  great  many  Cat'lic  books,  and  I  prav' 

to  God  to  show  me  de  trut',  and  den  I  bLin 

our^P^  •  ^^'  f  ^'  ^^^^  '^^^^^^^  I  i^-d  abSt 
3  our  religion  and  about  de  priests,  was  wronff, 
all  wrong.     But  all  de  time  I  couldn't  brined 
myself  to  say  I'd  be  a  Cat'lic,  or  go  to  cont 
fession,  dat  I  couldn't  do,  I  said,  Ind  den  I 
was  very  much  angry  wit  myself,  and  when  I 
^Iked  to  Mr    Talbot  or  his  wif^  about  it?  I 
said  it  was  about  de  priests  ;  dat  was  only  an 
excuse  dat  de  deevil  put  in  my  mout',  for  I 
know  very  well  now  dat  God  left  de  priests 
power  to  forgive  sins  in  his  name.     Buf  now 
all  de  bad  old  pride  is  gone,  'cause  my  life  is 
near  done,  and  I  want  to  confess  my  sins,  and 
get  de  water  of  baptism,  and  be  a  Cat'lic  be- 
fore I  die,  for  fear  God  would  ask  me  why  I  did 
not    hear  de  Church,'  as  he  tell  us  all  to  do,  and 

l^  'If^'u^.  ''''*  ''''^^^''  ^'^  s"^ely  would  send 
me  wit  de  bad  people  who  rebelled  against  him." 
How  admirable  are  the  ways  of  the  Lord  '  " 
exclaimed  the  priest  again,  and  he  raised  his 
eyes  to  heaven  "Truly  has  this  awful  acci- 
dent  been  sent  as  the  means  of  i«n.n.,^  ,.^.j 
into  the  true  Church,  by  putting  an  "^nd' to 


pi 


248 


WILLY   BURKE  ,*     OR, 


^'nS'"''"      ""''  P^"^^^  '^'^''^^  to  his 

fJl\u''^^''^  ^^^"^  beckoned  all  to  follow  him 
from  the  room,  leaving  the  good  father  alone 
with  his  penitent.  Mrs.  Talbot  then  took  thl 
opportunity  to  prepare  some  suitable  draught 

It  ^^^'^''u^?'  Father  O'Hara  entered  the 
room.  Before  he  had  spoken  a  word  to  any  one, 
he  approached  Willy  Burke,  and  laying  his 
hand  on  hi^  shoulder,  he  said  : 

"  Rejoice  and  be  glad,  my  child !  for  God 
has  given  you  the  special  grace  of  aiding  and 
assisting  in  the  execution  of  his  merciful  de- 
signs on  this  man.    Under  God,  he  attributes 
his  conversion —  and  a  truly  marvellous  con- 
version it  is  —  to  your  excellent  example.     So 
true  It  is,  that  the  silent  influence  of  example 
is  more  efficacious  than  precept.     But  let  not 
^is  tenapt  you  to  think  better  of  yourself, 
Willy ;  for  the  greater  the  favor  is  that  you 
have  received,   the  more  cause  you  have  to 
humble  yourself  before  the  Almighty  Giver. 
May  the  Lord  bless  you,  my  dear  child !  " 

But  you  have  not  heard  all,  reverend  sir ' " 
said  Dawson,  coming  modestly  forward  •  "  I 
am  another  convert  of  Willy  Burke's  making 
Not  -that  he  ever  talked  to  me  about  religious 
matters  until  ^  began  to  think  of  them  myself, 
and  asked  hun  to  give  me  some  instructions  ; 
but,  like  Mr.  Weimar,  I  was  struck  by  the  won- 
aerml  diirerence  betwpp.n  hia  lifn  a»^  *».„+  ^^ 


ti-^-     £«ritVt      VllC^U     Vi 


to 


THE   IBISn   ORPHAN   IN  AMEKICA.         249 

regular  in  going  to  church,  and  yet  always  so 
gay  ancl  cheerful,  that  he  seemed^uirhlp/ 
And  then,  no  matter  what  we  did  or  said  tn 

Sd'  a*  "h  ^•''"^  *^^*  th:'reSoThe'p'r:^ 

for  h^'  t       ir*'  "P  *°'  ™"^*  '^«  the  right  on^ 

PvL  I  *''^  ''^'■y  ^'^t  Catholic  boy  I  had 

ever  known  so  intimately.     Now  sir  T  hnt. 

been  studying  your  hoi/ religion  S' all  T 

principal  features,  and,  with  God's  blessincr  I 

think  I  understand  them  tolerably  well     I  I'as 

ILU^l  to  your  house  with  Willv  Burko 

when   his  dreadful  occurrence  stopped  us  " 

.     Allow  me  to  congratulate  youf  then  1  th^ 

f£^-fcK-y-^S 

SSXTtdVoodti^rS^^ 

grace  to  lead  such  a  life  here  on  S  toat  he 
Se^'toThf  "\"""''  "^  y°"  «•«  c"  own*  prom! 
salvation.       Turning  then  to  Willy    he  <ja>v? 

with  a  paternal  smile,  "  Why  mv  v  ,nn<r  frif   i 
vou  arp  11  Hffio  „„    A     .    "^'"'y.^oingiriend, 

take   rl^o   H    <.  *^°*"?  '"  y""^  <"^"  cTrcle,  _ 
laKe   care   that  von   Ins..  «„„„  nc  iu.       ' 

graces  God  hath  given'you."'""'^  "  '"""^ 


111 


250 


VriLLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


"  Indeed,  Father  O'Hara,"  said  Willy,  his 
face  betraying  all  the  confusion  which  he  really 
felt,  « it's  enough  to  make  any  one  ashamed 
to  hear  himself  so  praised  up  ;  but  then  again, 
when  I  come  to  think  of  it,  sure  I  needn't  be 
ashamed,  for  it's  all  the  work  of  God  himself 
and  for  his  greater  honor  and  glory."  ' 

Here  Mr.  Talbot  was  summoned  to  the  bed- 
side of  Mr.  Weimar,  who  extended  his  hand 
as  he  entered,  and  said,  with  a  happy  smile  • 
"So  no^  I'm   a   Cat'lic   at  last,  — God  be 
praised  !    What  you  tink,  Talbot,  isn't  it  much 
happiness  to  humble  one's  self  before  de  good 
God  dat  one  has  so  much  offended,  and  con- 
fess deir  fault,  and  ask  his  pardon,  and  den 
to  he'^r  his  minister  give  de  pardon  in  his  name  ? 
When  I  feel  so  glad  now  because  I  hope  dat 
God  will  forgive  me,  or  has  forgiven  me  my 
sms  —  bad  and   many  as  dey  were  — I  can't 
think  dat  I'm  de  same  Weimar  dat  used  to  make 
laugh  at  confession,  — oh!  but  God  is  good, 
very,  very  good  to  have  mercy  on  a  poor  sinful 
man  like  me." 

"I  give  you  joy,  my  dear  friend,  from  my 
heart  I  do,"  said  Talbot,  with  unfeigned  sat- 
isfaction ;  "  and  I  would  recommend  to  3^ou 
to  supplicate  the  intercession  of  the  blessed 
Mother  of  our  Redeemer.  It  is  scarcely  to  be 
expected  that  you  could  at  this  moment  col- 
lect your  thoughts  sufficiently  to  make  a  re- 
view of  so  many  years  ;  in  fact  it  could  not  be 
expected  that   von  wnnlH  •    tt^ih.   o^n«^««:^,. 


THE    IBISH    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA.         251 

then,  must  be  more  or  less  imperfect,  and  be- 

ore  the  pnest  comes  again  in  the  mornin" 

your  soul  may  be  called  hence.     Apply,  then' 

iAe  Jiefuge  of  Sinners,  The  Help  of  Chris- 

TV-  T  ^^^  °*'  *'«■• '"  obtain  for  you  the  graces 

con^'tHff  T  '*'"'''  ■"  "^^'•'  -»•!.  »bove  alf  true 
contrition  for  your  sins." 

SubiecW  •"'"'  '^  ^'^  ™""'^^  '""g*'^  on  this 
subject,  Weimar  requested  that  Mr?  Jennings 

then-   awyer,  might  be  sent  for,  as  he  wished 
to  make  his  will  as  soon  as  poss  ble.     "  I  tink 
It  best  hurry,"  he  said,  "  for'l  find  much  weLl^ 
ness  here, -about  my  heart;  tell  de  doctor, 
too    to  come."    The  doctor,  who  had  merei; 
Tvithdrawn  to  another  apartment,  quickly  made 
his  appearance,  and  was  seriously  alarmed  by 
the  change  which  had  taken  place.     In  fact  he 
found  his  patient  sinking  fast,  while  from  cer! 
tain  symptoms  about  the  head,  he  feared  a 
sudden  derangement  of  the  brain.     "  I  would 
cei-^ainly  advise  you,  Mr.  Weimar,"  he  saW, 
to  get  through  with  Mr.  Jennings,  when  he 
comes,  as  fast  as  possible  ;  for  to  tel   you  the 
truth,  either  your  life  or  your  senses  w-ill  very 
soon  give  way."  -^ 

Just  then  the  lawyer  entered,  and  the  will 

Mr.  Talbot  for  witnesses.     It  was  necessary, 
however,  to  give  a  few  drops  of  wine  occasion- 

allV  to  the    n.nfinnf    f/-.,.  o^  . i.  _.-      -,  .  . 

««"      . ,    :  ^"~ ■"'  ^^^  '^^  ii'-^^iih  was  ni8  weak- 
ness,   that  several  times  he   was  obliged  to 


2€ 


WILLY  burke;    or, 


pause  m  his  dictation.   When  the  will  was  "om- 
pleted,  xie  appeared  truly  grateful  that  he  bad 
been  enabled  to  go  through  with  it.     "  New  " 
said  he,  in  a  low,  laint  voice,  "  now  I've  noiincr 
more  t^o  wit  dis  world,  -  oh  !  if  I  could  ouly 
know  that  God  wQl  have  mercy  on  my  poor 
sou  ,  I'd  be  glad  to  die  ;  but  <iore,  I  kuow  very 
we  1  dat  my  confession  wafeut  what  it  ou  -lit 
to  be,  and  I  have  much  fear.     O  n^y  Qvd  '  my 
good  Master !    how  wicked  I  ha  /e   been,  1 
a  bad,    b^d  .servant.     It  wasn't  for    yop   I 
worker,  in  t»  y  life,  but  for  myself.    Oh  1  what  a 
miseraoie  m:in  I  am,  — I  shut  my  eyes  against 
de  trut^  tu.^  de  very  last,  and  how  caij  I  hope 
to   be  forgiven?  — O   Blessed  Virgin  Mary! 
1  m  so  poor  a  creature  dat  I  dare  not,  'ook  up 
to  dat  God  whom  I  have  so  often  offended,  but 
yori  11  pray  for  me  to  your  Son,  dat  ho  may 
have  mercy  on  me.     I  ask  your  pardon,  great 
queen !  because  I  have  so  long  time  despised 
your  name,  but  now  I  know  de  great  power 
dat  you  have  in  heaven,  and  I  hope  you'll  look 
with  pity  on  me  !  " 

By  this  time  all  the  family  had  assembled 
around  the  bed,  and  the  doctor  returned,  say- 
ing that  he  could  do  nothing  more.  "  I  told 
Mr.  Weimar  to  avoid  excitement,"  said  he 
'  and  he  has  never  ceased  talking  since.  Now 
he  must  take  the  consequences.  I  shall  wait 
some  time,  however,  in  the  next  room,  in  case 
any  favorable  change  might  occur,  of  which, 


indftfirl.  T  haxra  n^4- 


:M 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  253 

But  Weimar  heeded  not  his  words,  for,  iust 
then,  he  perceived  Willy  Burke,  who  was  kneel- 
ing near  the  foot  of  the  bed,  his  head  bowed 
down,  and  his  hands  cla8ped  as  in  fervant 
prayer.  "Ha!  Willy!"  said  the  old  man, 
making  an  effort  to  raise  his  voice  so  as  to  be 
heard,  "  you  pray  forme  ;  dat's  well :  and  when 
Im  gone,  you  pray  for  me  too.  Come  here  ! » 
Willy  approached,  and  bent  down  to  catch  the 
taint  accents  of  the  dying  man. 

"I  like  you  very  much,  Willy  Burke  ;  you 
good  boy ;  good  servant  of  God.     I  owe  vou 
much  and  when  my  will  is  opened,  you  find 
dat  old  Weimar  did  not  forget  you.    You  stand 
up  well,  and  resist  temptation  when  you  poor  • 
now  dat  you'll  be  richer,  do  de  same,  and  don't 
ever  forget  God,  for  if  you  do,  I'd  be  sorry, 
very  sorry,  to  leave  de  money  to  you,  'cause 
when  you  come  to  be  where  I  am  now,  on  the 
bed  of  death,  all  de  riches  in  de  world  is  like 
noting  at  all ;  keep  dat  always  in  your  mind, 
and  den  you  need  not  be  afraid  of  death.   May 
the  Lord  bless  you,  and  keep  you  all  your  life 
in  his  holy  service !     And  be  sure  you  don't 
forget  de  poor  old  man  dat  has  so  much  to 
answer  for  in  de  oder  world.     Pray  for  me 
morning  and  evening."  ' 

Willy's  tears  fell  fast  on  the  withered  face, 
whereon  death  was  already  legiblv  traced,  as 
He  exclaimed,  with  honest  warmth  :" "  With  the 

neln  of  Clnt^    Afv   \v«:„, tmi  . 

,-  _- .  „.,.  ,..-„„,,     j^  ^^  never  Kneel  to 


pray  for  myself,  or  for  iny  dead  father  or 


ill 


« 
^ 


,  n 


I  m 


I  Wi% 


254 


WILLY   BURKE  ;     OB, 


mother,  but  I'll   offer  up  a  prayer  for   vou 
Jour  money,  sir,  I  didn't  wantf  for  T  don't 
covet  riches,  but  still  I  thank  youTjIr  Wei 
mar,  God  knows  I  do  !  because  it  show;  that 

tl"  world  If  T^;!  *^  "•'''  ungrateful  boy  in 
the  world  If  I  hadn't  served  you  as  well  as  I 

le-ivi^'  ie  ,?I  fh^  """•  ^"''  "■■'  'f  yo"  ''^'•e 
o^,  tn  k!  ^  •*"  'ii*'"^^'  >'°"  ^efe  worth,  and 
}  on  to  be  dyin'  a  Protestant,  I'd  <rive  it  all 
aye  every  cent,  to  see  you  as  >;,„  ar?  Thanks' 
and  praises  be  to  God  that  He  ha^  bron^ht 
you^within  the  pale  of  the  ChSeVbefore'S 

"But,  Talbot,"  said  Weimar,  makin-  a 
most  lot?""*  i"  r'"^'*""^  ^'«  speecTwas-aU 
oeiore  l  die  :  I  forgive  dat  poor  Wilson  from 
my  very  heart.     I  promised  de  priest  daH 

lor  It  I  lell  him  dat,  if  vou  evpr  «3pp  hL.  „  !i 
dat  it  was  de  holy  and  d^rnVrcSil  religTou  "^ 
Cat  lies,  speaking  by  its  minister,  dat  broueht 
me  to  forgive  him,  and  pray  for  him  too?^ 

Mi^  and  V-  Viw*^  «°d  affecting  leave  of 
ivii.  and  Mis.  Talbot  and  their  children  all 
of  whom  were  bathed  in  tears,  for  the  oTd  man 
had  been  as  cheerftU  and  kind  in  the  domestic 
circle,  as  he  was  strict  and  stern  with  those 
whom  he  employed.     "  Talbot,"  safd  he  a„d 

Ills   VOinP.  waa    D/io^^^T..  --  T,  ,      '  ^    "*''  ""tl 

._„  «v«xv;uij  auuiDie,  even  when  his 


THE   miSH  ORPIIAK  IN  AMERICA.         255 

friend  bent  down  over  him,  "  I've  left  vm.  rl» 
sole  owner  of  de  joint  concern  ;  m^I  of  iv  m^ 
money  i„  de  Amd.,  I've  left  so  netl  i,tTi  eae 

miWBr^f'  '?"^^""-      »«  remainder    after 

of  New  York  t'P'\  ^T  "^  "<'  ^°<'''  bishop 
ui  i^ew  xork,  to  be  laid  out  as  he  tinka  hesV 

for  de  good  of  religion.  Dat's  all  dat  poor  oh 
rrie.drtod^,tsT::a;T;oZr'»-'- 
menced  reciting  the'Zua^  "of  th' Bleri 

the  prayers  for  the  dead,-  Father  0'Rnr.o  t 


256 


WILLY  BUEKE;  OE, 


WILLY  BURKE*3  LEGACY. 

W^^  Mr.  Weimar's  will  was  at  length 
^  »  opened,  it  was  found  that  he  had  be- 
queathed  to  Willy  Burke  no  less  a  sum  than 

lalbots  two  thousand,  and  the  remainder  a? 
Catho.ic  Bishop  of  New  York    to  ho  «. 

^irBu^kf 'Vr«"  ^-'^^^^^  ^^^ 

possible  that  so  large  a  s,.m  was  to  be  his 
own,  but,  when  he  could  no  long,  •■  doubt  the 
fact,  he  ex-Uaimed  in  a  joyous  touc     "  Well 

foTmrrnl'lfh-  tTt  "^^  -''^^'a  n.S 
lor  me,  and  I  think  I  kn  w  what  for  ;  with  his 
dmne  ass:,    nee  I'll  do  ,„y  be.t  to  clrry  h  s 

be  L^d  and"  '"%"*,'?•     ^•''  '"'*>■  *•>«  ^ord 

mar !   buie  I  can  never,  never  forget  wli^t  vf.ii 
have  done  for  me."  S"wii„ijoa 

fuli'v^"^'  '*^'"^' '"  ''''''  ^'   Tall  ,t,  reproa-h- 

t^lflK  r"  *•"""  *<'      '  •    needing  y    ojoiced 
that  the  letrac/  is  sn  i«  ~     .„ ^  ..  °  -V    "J""-™ 


iOUgiit 


i( 


rou 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IK   AMERICA.  257 

tlnt"vo„^o^;m"''"  "^'Pr  '''^P'*^*''^'  friend 
tnat^ou  set  little  or  no  value  on  money?" 

Kor  neither  I  do,  sir."  repli.a  Willy    in 

an  .nnnnated  tone  ;  "  when  I  toUl  Mr.  wLZ 

so  I  told    ,„„  the  tnitli,  God  knows  I  did 

I  c  .11  r 'vvi  hVf  """•*'  j"^'  *"'"'-  «■■•'  "f  «"  tl^t 

w  listen  for  a  few  minutes,  I'll  tell  you  what 
makes  me  so  glad  to  have  it  " 

n,^h»  i*^'-  '^'''^'  '"'•  "^'en-  »t  least  as  soon 
oi'e  L  JlT't^"  '"'  "'"^  »'«=  business  o? 
took  wni  '  "■''''  '"'"I'leted  i  and  though  it 

took  Willy  scarce  two  minutes  to  unfolcf  his 

smde'o?  1  •  ",  '"^"'^  *°  """  '^'  °M  f«™il^r 
smile  of  l.indness  and  approbation  to  Mr.  Tal- 
bot s  face.  " Well !  well !  Willy,"  he sa  d  "I 
«ee  you  are  never  to  be  caugl't  thiuMng  of 
^^elf,  _  always  occupied  with  others.  But  r?ally 
t  us  scheme  of  yours  is  a  good  one.  God  gTant 
t^    b  It  may  succeed  !  "  ^ 

the'r?f    ^''"..";?*?'"™'>''"*"^vill,sir!"was 
tne  rei  ••  l  u  jn^t  go  off  now  and  place  the 

whole  matt..   „  the  hands  of  the  Blessed  Mother 

docs.     Good-by,  then,  sir,  for  the  present.'' 
Andaway  went Wi",    his  headandhea      uU 

Weimar     R.f""''^  ""  ""^  '^^^^^  «*'  « 
\v  eimai .     Before  mak.  ,g  even  one  step  in  the 

affair,  he  went  into  a  church,  and,  before  nn 
altar  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  h^  bes'on'ht  that 
gracious  mother  to  assist  hi,.,  ,-„  >,.•„  ..  :"  .  . 

*t  v^.1-.  1^,  V        '  ^"  Jii=»  Cii  surprise. 

You  know,  oh,  sweet  mother!"  be  said,  with 


i  ' 


i-: 


1  i!-^       *; 


258 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


do  s/frT.    '    ^?  K"°'^  «l'«t  I  "nclcrtak-c  to 
clo  13  for  the  greater  honor  ami  giory  of  your 

D.nne  Son,  blessed  be  his  holy  name -Zl 
hat  m  the  reason  why  I  have  s,,eh  crfldenoo 
■n  your  a,,  !  Help  mo,  then,  O  pnwerf  a  l! 
vocate  !  help  me  with  your  p'raye'rs,  and  then 
left  th/"r  °[  «;:";ccedi„g!"  j'le  irose,  an 
lit  \  ".'""■';'''  ^""  *''■  a  consoling  assurance 
thf.t  she  to  whom  none  eyer  sues  "n  vain  1  nd 
heard  his  prayer,  an.l  approved  of  his  desig 

A  fewinimutes  after,  he  knocked  at  Father 
O Haras  door,  and  was  quickly  admitted  to 

prLt^ldT"  "'""  ^"^■"'  '"'  "-«  ^-<» 

down  the  ponderous  volume  which  he  hi^d  been 
reading,  "what  is  the  matter  now,  that  von 
are  out  at  this  hour  of  the  day  '  "  ^ 

"Oh  !  the  old  thing,  sir,"  said  Willv  with  n 
smile ;  » I'm  goin'  to  try  ,ny  hand  a"i  „  at  it 
and  now  Tm  in  a  condition  to  do  romethii  <; 
better,  for,  thanks  be  to  God,  and  poor  Mi-  Wei? 
mar  I  have  five  thousand  dollars  to  work  with. 
Don  t  you  thmk,  sir,  that  I  may  beffin  to  hone 
now,_sinee  God  has  ah-eady  d^ne  so  muchTr 

n'^fi''^J— f""''  fJoHai-s  !"  repeated  Father 
O'Hara,  "  IS  It  possible?" 

true"  R,r"!  •1^7?''''"''*','  ""*  0"lyP0S5,ible,  but 
true.  But  still  I  haven't  all  that  for  this  pur- 
pose ;_  I  only  mean  to  put  four  thousand  into 


THE    IRI.sii    ORPHAN    IN    AMERICA.  259 

clolla.?of'if'i';;  H  "f"?  *°  P"*  <=«■'*  ''"Wired 
where  U  !  /  """"H  '  tl'-it  is,  I'll  let  it  stay 
«ntie  It  13,  for  my  sisters  —  four  for  eacli 

to  live  fiT",'  ',f  '"°  """"^-''  -'^1  I''^  goTng 

Masses  o.rerecl  upfo'r  uT^.ilT^'^^^^,  X 
f  Uher  and  mother,  too,  I  can  now  do  some 
thing  for  them,- thanks  be  to  the  Lrd  for  all 
his  mercies  to  us  ! "  " 

as'lie'tl-'/Jfr"^'''"^'''"""  ^"•^■'"  «"'<>  the  priest, 
as  he  wiped  away  an  obtrusive  tear,  "  well 

In  l^f'  ^'k-'  "'.'^°^''"y  forgetfulness  of  seTf  is 
so  refreshing  in  these  da^-s  of  cohl,  erasDinff 
selfishness,  that  it  mal<es  me  feel  almost  af 
though  I  were  young  again.  But  the  s"m  vou 
propose  giving  to  the  priests  is  far  tooTaraT 
T.  for  one,  will  remember  Mr.  Weimar  f; 
many  a  day  when  I  am  offering  up  tirHolv 
Sacrifice, -duty  and  charity  bind  me  to  that 

Ts  m"'  Tfr'T^f/'^'  me^down  f^so  itge' 
a  sum.     In  fact,  I'll  have  none  of  your  monw 

—  none  ;  so  pass  me  over,  and  go  on      I  «?ir 

speak  to  Father  Smith,  and  some^othe;s  of  ou 

?of tt  d;X""'^  -^y  '^"  -"«  *"  p-S 

{egacy  to  me,  and  six  «,,  ,„»„;,i  ,i:.n™  ?.  "^'^ 
Talbot's  chUdren,  he  left-all  tlir;:;*  ^VhS 


>'} 


2G0 


WILLY  bceke;    or, 


money  that  was  in  the  funds  to  the  Bishon  to 
be  laul  out  on  Catholic  charities.  I  be  ieve  i? 
eTeShtg"'  *"''"*^  "'""-"'J  dollars -ctrof 

.uJ^'"^h  ^  *°  ^°^  '■"  exclaimed  the  priest 
clasping  his  hands  together,  as  he  raised  his 
swimming  eyes  to  heaven.  "  Gr™  h  s 
goodness  to  us,  his  unworthy  children      And 

need^'fo^^t""''''  ^"''"'''  """^'^  in  the  iouto  ' 
need,  for  to  my  certain  knowledge  the  Door 
Bishop  has  been  harassed  for  several  weeks 

ings,_he  having  no  less  than  three  of  them 

groclness.     Truly,  this  is  a  marvellous  bless- 

"  Well,  now,  sir,"  said  Willy,  «  rn  „o  and 

will  be  in  about  an  hour  or  so  " 

wi!i  flntmeVe".""""''"'^'"^- '"'"«'  -*'  3'°" 
"Oh !  but  that's  true,"  said  Willy,  turning 

back  from  the  door,  "  what  does  your  re^r? 

ence  think  of  Dawson  ?  Is  he  really  sincere '" 
"So  sincere,"  said  the  priest,  '•  that  he  is 

corsfiorito'  ".""i"^  '"'■  "^  ^o  ''«»'  h 

lateh    3  1  l'"^l  several  visits  from  him 

wUh^God^,  h^nT'"'  '"  ^■'-'"  <''«1'°««'J.  that, 

tl^e  table  nf^LPV^"''^:'°°"  ^^  "-Jmitted  to 

uie  table  of  the  Lord.     You  may  perhacs  fin.) 

him  here  when  you  come."  Pe™aps  hnd 

"If  I  do,  sir.  it  will  ho  aii  ti,»  i,_ii.-_     ,    . 

**"     f"C      .VClrfcCr  j      DUl 


THR    miSII    OKPHAX    m   AMERICA.  261 

I'm  Staying  far  too  long,  so  I  must  hurry  away 

the  slanting  beams  of  the  Western  sun  were 
gliding  the  tops  of  the  tall,  dingy  warehouses 

way  tf  Mr    w  »'■'"'*'  ^''^'"^  *''*'  well-known 
wa\  to  Mr.  Watkins's  office.     But  ere  vet  hp 

lad  gotin  sight  of  it  he  stopped  short  and 
turmng  down  a  wider  and  more  Sson  p 
street,  whose  bright  brick  houses!  and  gre":: 
jalousies,  and  iron  palisading,  deuotid  a 
Ws  nirf  f  '|-:!>-g-l'ousesr  he  s'Sened 
ms  pace,  and  at  times  stopped  altogether 
looking  anxiously  down  the  street.  "He  must 
soon  be  here,"  he  mumured  to  himself  "for 

throlce  "'  'k  t"",*  ^"^^  ''""^  when"h:  l'ea,t 
tne  office.  He  had  waited  some  time,  never- 
theless, when  he  saw  his  brothe^'cominl 
hastily  along  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  streef 
Crossing  over  quickly,  WHly  caught  his  arm 
saying  with  a  smile:  "Why,  Peter  you  S 
be  in  a  mighty  great  hurry,  when  voii  were 
passing  without  seeing  me,  and  I'm  IZ  Ive 
been  long  enough  waiting  for  you  It's  no 
easy  matter  to  get  seeing  you  noiadavs^^     "° 

„S- '  '*  ""y  '^*"'*''"'  *'''''*  I  wouldn't  put 

1  3  sell  in  the  way  of  being  lectured  and  drilled 
by  a  saucy  younger  brother  ?  " 

"Ah!  Peter.  Votm-  "<,„;^  nr:ii„   -i    .  . 

head  sorrowfuily,-:rti,rw;sn't't tay  if  Z 


,j*'l 


*  I' 


^1 


262 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


me,  — Its  because  your  own  heart  ro.JJ;     u 
you  that  you  fear  me."  reproaches 

"thiJtTh.77A.  '^^^    ^^*«^'   breaking    in 
this  18  the  old  thing  over  again  ;  there  vou'ro 
at  It  asrain  '    T<jn'f  if  «   «  •'"'^a*-,  joure 

here  at  all?"       ^''""*'^-     ^V Hat  brought  you 

"Well,  I'll  ju3t  tell  von  thif  "  .»„i-  ^  ,  • 
brother  "  if  you'll  walk  tl^is  way  with  S^''^  i't!! 

much  sor^y^  '""^  '"'"  «°°«^'  «°<1 1  wasn't 

Pele^'^arwSrwr^r^r^^tra 
has  found  favorLfot  G^'"*  '  '"''  ^  *™«'^><= 

said  Wi%     "B^t  hl'?-f  •'.  f  ""'""S  there," 
didn't  hea'r  that  beforeT"  **  '*  '"'"1^''"  *'>^»^''"' 

herr7f;l-l"!.^L';;>'l  ^rs.  Watkins  that  I 
.     ---o  ^---o  tuc  oia  man's  death,  and 


in. 


THK    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA. 


263 


IP 


I  suppose  they  forgot  that  part  of  it, —  but 
they  seemed  to  think  him  a  very  bad  man,  and 
talked  a  great  deal  about  such  a  death  a^  his 
must  have  been, -so  very  miserable,  and  all 

*'Aye,"  exclaimed  Willy,  with  a  bitterness 
all  unusualto  him,;  itdidn^t  serve  their  pS^ose 
to  let  you  knov.  of  Mr.  Weimar's  conversion 
but  be  assured  they  knew  all  about  it,  for  Mr.' 
Talbot  told  me  he  had  himself  converged  with 
Mr.  Watkms  on  the  subject.  And  as  to  their 
speaking  so  hardly  of  him,  that's  all  because 
of  his   becoming  a   Catholic.     At   any  rate 

of  Mr.  Weimar  (even  if  he  had  been  such  as 
tliey  said,  ■- which  he  was  not),  for  he  has  left 
us  independent." 
*' How  is  that?" 

"  He  has  left  me  five  thousand  doUars." 
.     "You  don't  say  so,  Willv  '  " 
"  But  I  do,  Peter ! " 

"  Wh3',  how  in  the  world  did  it  happen  that 
he  took  such  a  fancy  to  you?"  inquired  the 
elder  brother,  in  real  amazement. 

''  Well,  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  the 
younger,  with  a  blushing  face;  ^<  Mr.  Talbot 

th.?n  Tn  ^'^V^/^^^^^^  '^  ^^  great  deal  better 
than  lean.  There's  one  thing  to  be  said  at 
any  rate,  that  I  can  tell  you.  ''it  was  d'  wsoi 

onuTf  w^.  ^"""^^  P^^^-  ^'^^^  l3'i4 
on  the   street   Tfor   wp  ft.iw  i.;»,    .,..^^:,.y  ^.^ 

tatal  blow) ,  and  we  were  present  at  lus  death. 


n 


264 


WILLY  burke;    or, 


you  not  seye„teeryet-WhV?nT^ -"■;'' 
will  you  do  with  it  all  ?■   ZtXl    t""®  """'''' 

talk^^M^'s^id  Vii  V  S  ""''"''  ^f  ^-O"  to 
eves       '  c;,„i    "^  ,P '  ^'^'^  te«s  starting  to  his 

aSd  keepTngT  /T'''^^*'^'^  half  what  I 
hundred  do  lai  in  tL>™  f°V"^  *°  '^«^'<'  ^-r 
girls,  and  Mr    T?.w    '"'"''  '^°'"  <'««h  of  the 

for  themTby  meais  o^li'?  ?Si'i''*''«»l  "'ore 

The  two'h/ndreHolrs  that  r^'  'P'^^J'^-^^' 
thousand,  I  want  fnr  1!.^  "mams  of  that 

you  at  an'ofh^  ttoTirUher''^,?'''''^'"  *^" 
going  to  divide  with  vour/''°';?r^'^''" 
for  each  of  us    T  Thini:  Z'  T, ,       '*''"  ^'^  two 

leave  it  i^Uh'bank  "u  t^I^^A^^^ V''''  T^  '" 
and  then  we'll  hnvo  it  f„  '^wj-ears  older, 

ness.  DoT^'t  you  thtak  thaT-rr  T™"  ''"^'- 
to  do,  Peter?"  "'^  t*"*  ^««'  thing 

Bot  Peter  could  not  nnoot  <• 
ments.     The  genero^?!-  !?    *,  '^'^  ^°'"«  'no- 
brother  touche^riTXranT   ""'*  ,"'  '''^ 
better  feelings.     CinrtL  ?1  ''?"l''  "  '" 
he  remained"  silent     "S  "'L^l^ '"'"'!*?«  'hat 

—7  ^.-  oz^cmuij   rapiuij  ran 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA.  2G5 

over  the  numberless  instances  wherein,  duriuo 
the  last  few  years,  he  had  outraged  and  afflicted 
his  brother ;  he  thought  liow  he  had  treated 
nis  traternal  counsels  with  scorn  and  contempt, 
and  how  he  had  trampled  on  the  love  of  their 
early  years,  —  and  above  all,  how  he  had  de- 
serted the  Church  that  Willy  loved  so  well,  and 
ranged  himself  with  her  enemies  ;—  at  least  he 
had  all  but  done  this,  and  now,  to  see  that 
brother  —  so  wronged  —  so  disgraced  —  so  out- 

ot  his  little  fortune,  —  truly  it  was  more  than 
reter  could  bear  ;  tlie  long-buried  affection  of 
early  youth  burst  forth  again,  and  when  he 
clasped  his  brother's  hand,  and  murmured: 
God  bless  you,  Willy !  God  bless  you  i " 
that  brother  felt  that  a  change —  a  niio-hty 
change  — had  passed  over  his  siirit,  and  he 
said  within  himself: 

■  "  I  thank  thee,  O  God  !  I  thank  and  bless 
tnee.  1  hy  gift  has,  indeed,  regained  for  me  the 
long-lost  affection  of  my  brother.  Now,  sweet 
Virgin  Mother  !  that  I  have  succeeded  so  far 
I  know  thou  wilt  help  me  in  the  yet  more  im- 
portant attempt  to  be  made. 

"  Well !  now  that  you  find  that  I'm  not  'too 
proud  to  speak  to  my  poor  relations,'  as  you 
said  a  while  ago,"  said  Willy,  with  a  cheerful 

T  r^.  y^^l  ^^""^^  J"^*  ^^^^  ^i^li  «ie  and  see 
Mr.  lalbot?  for  I  want  to  ask  his  advice  about 
oiirmonev.   And   * 


and  so  will  Mrs,  Talbot."  " 


ni 


2G(j 


WILLY   BURKK;     or, 


Peter  hesitated,  and  blushed''deenlv      "Rnf 

^^  ^  ''  -^^'"  '''  -^^'  ''^•*  Talbo 
must  tliink  me   so  ungrateful;    in  short    hn 

never  go    mueh  reason  to  think  well  of  'me 
and   that's   the  truth, -so  I'm  ashamed  to 


go. 


>> 


hoi/of"?'"'"'  ^"'f '  •'  "  '"^  "^'^  brother,  takin-^ 
siiametul  action  in  regard  to  Mr   Tnlh^f  +ui 
you  need  fear  to  meet  &J,  midev-eifrf'S  lid 
take  my  word  for  it  he'd  be  ovorjoved  ?o  seo 
you  repenting  of  it."  •"  ■*  ^ 

w-lw*;" '  .T*"" '   I  ''""'t  like  to  refuse  vou 

come  his  unwillingness.  "  But  then  I  have  to 
go  home  llrst,  as  I  have  some  monoy  herlfor 
Mrs.  Watlcms,  that  I  know  she's  wa  tinJ  for  • 
tml  l^:/  *"  "''■'  ^'"  SO  -th  3-ou=fora 
"  Then  I'll  go  with  you  ! "  said  Willy,  quickly 

want  vo^;'?r,°'°'''  "'•?,*  ^^'•«-  Watkiii'sS't 
want  3  ou  to  be  on  good  terms  with  me,  and  she 

might  persuade  you  to  stay  at  home." 

Oh  never  fear ! "  was  the  answer  "  shp'II  l,<, 
so  glad  to  hear  of  our  good  fortme  that  s  I'M 
have  no  objection  for  iSe  to  go  to  s^e  M  Ta 
bot  But  really  it's  too  bad^ that  you  have  so 
bad  an  opinion  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  witkins!after 
all  they've  done  for  us,  —  for  me  at  le^^f     T>? 

Z^L^:^]  '-'  been";:'y1l™h« 
whatTotu  t'  -I  t!f...'?^^?  ^-.-•-    And, 


,« ?     -1 


u^  oaiu,  ura 


wmg 


b 


THE    IRISH   ORPHAN   IX   AMERICA.  2G7 

Close  to  liis  brotlicr,  and  speaking  in  a  lower 
tone  ;  I  have  strong  hopes  that  they'll  make 
me  their  heir  ;  do  you  hear  that  ?  " 

'  tl         f'  '"'^^  '"'^^^^'^  ^^^"^^^  «f  manner; 
the}    who   suggested    that   hope   were    but 

making  merry  with  your  credulity,  and  a  few 

hours  after  the  meeting  with  you,  they  twitted 

me  with  your  being  about  to  turn  ProtLtant 

for  the  sake  of  Mr.  Watkins's  fortune  Tou^ 

thaUrf  w'^^f?'*  i"  ''^^  ^^  ^'  '^^  '^-^^  time 
that  Ml.  \\  atkms  has  a  nephew  in  Savannah, 

who  IS  sure  to  be  his  heir." 

"  Well !  if  that  be  true,"  said  Peter,  his  face 
flaming  with  anger,  "  that  Wilson  is  the  great- 
est  villain  unhanged."  ^ 

"It/,  true,';  said  Willy,  "but  there's  no  use 
n  railing  against  Wilson,  or  any  other  one  • 
the  only  thing  is,  be  on  your  guard  against 
such  schemers  for  the  futuri  B?t  here  S 
at  Mr.  Watkms's.  Pll  go  in  with  you,  but  I 
hope  you'll  not  stay  long:" 

Peter  opened  the  door  with  a  latch-kev,  and 
seeing  the  parlor-door  open,  he  told  Willy,  in 

1 11  be  back,"  said  he,  "  in  a  few  minutes." 

Peter  had  not  yet  reached  the  door,  when  he 

suddenly  st^^pped,  hearing  his  own  name  men- 

honed  in  the  adjoining  room,  which  was  only 

separated  from  the  parlor  by  folding  doors. 


lin/^li-vnl-v*-^  J1 


■»*■-_. 
Jjf±L"6, 


268 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


but  what  had  she  said  that  made  Peter  Burke 
change  color  so  ? 

"  Yes  !  "  said  the  ladj-,  continuing  her  dis- 
course, "I  have  great  hopes  that  the  meeting 
will  go  off  well,  provided  you  can  get  this 
liurke  to  come  forward  and  bear  testimony 

«iIlTfl  1      r-     ^""^y  ^^*  "'  I^^^^'^il  "Pon  thi 
!vh^^       T.*""  appear  on  the  platform  as  one 
who  has  abjured  the  errors  of  Popery,  and,  my 
life  for  It !  your  collection  would  be  a  first-rate 
one.     Th0  lad  is  good-looking,  Irish  and  all  as 
he  IS,  and  as  a  convert  from  the  Roman  Church, 
He  will  become  the  great  lion  of  the  day.    The 
reason  why  your  collections  do  not  turn  out 
well,  latterly,  is  the  great  dearth  of  novelty  • 
and  If  you  can  parade  this  young  fellow  as  one 
who  has  just  broken  the  chains  of  Rome,  etc., 
etc     under  your  spiritual  guidance,  you  will 
nnd  your  account  in  it,  I  assure  you  " 

T.J!w'C^'".^P^'?^  ^'^^^^^  *^^*  Peter  knew  to 
be  that  of  Mortimer,  *'  but  I  much  fear  that  I 

cannot,  of  myself,  persuade  the  lad  to  appear 

I  know  the  effect  would  be  most  beneficial  to 

our  interests,  but  these  Irish  Papists  are  so 

obstinately  attached  to  the  Church  of  Rome 

that  they  are  scarcely  to  be  tempted  to  come 

Mrs  Watkins,  and  laugh  at  our  boasted  lib- 
erty !  ^  This  boy,  though  he  appears  to  us 
wavering,  may  be  at  heart  as  much  a  Catholic 
as  ever  But  if  you  will  try  your  powers  of 
i-v.«««o.v^xi,  uc-ur,  ana  ioveij ,  and  bewitching 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN    IX   AMERICA.  209 

as  you  are,  he  nnot,  he  will  not  refuse  Do 
sweet  friend  !  "  -  and  the  minister's  "See  aC 

ff  ^^fV  •  ^^^r*^"^^^  by  yet  another  chain,  for 
It  muchimports  me  to  have  this  Bible  meeting 
crowned  with  success."  ^ 

"  I  will  try  what  I  can  do,"  said  Mr^  Wat- 
kms  in  reply ;  -  since  you  think  my  persuasive 
powers  so  great,  they  shall  be  all  pit  forth  n 
>  our  service,  and  I  think  I  may  venture  to 
promise  that  this  hopeful  youth  will  grace  your 
platform  as  a  convert.  Oh !  how  the  priests 
wil  gnash  their  teeth,  and  how  all  goodrpTous 
Methodists  will  rejoice  on  the  occasfon,  though 
between    ourselves  the  fellow  is    noi  worth 

Willy  Burke  had  approached  his  brother,  in- 

1  onn,  f  I  ^".T^^  ^^""^  ^^"^y  «h«"l^  leave  the 
loom,  for  he  did  not  wish  to  remain  where  he 

was  an  eavesdropper,  although  unintentionally. 

foLlT",  ^^''''^  ^?  *^^"^^^  transfixed,  nor  at- 
tempted  to  move  from  the  spot  until  he  had 
heard  all ;  then  turning,  he  caught  his  brother 
b>  the  arm  and  drew  him  out  into  the  hall, 
wi  hout  saying  a  word.     His  face  was  pale  as 

breath  Till'  ^^^""''^  ^^*"^^"^^  ^^^P^^^  ^^v 
bieath.     Calhng  a  servant,  however,  he  handed 

on^T^ir  f?*^  "^^^"^^  contained  the  money, 
and  te  ling  him  to  give  it  to  Mrs.  Watkins 
without  any  delay,  he  motioned  for  Willy  to 
loUow.    nnd    lincfor.^^1    4-^    „— V    .1       ,  -^ 

though  he  feared  to  remain  a  moment  longer. 


I  i' 


I 


270 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


Neither  spoke  for  sonn-  minutes  after  th(  \  left 
t^e  door,  but  suddenly  Peter  stopped,  and 
turned  full  on  his  brother  : 

''Now,  with  God's  help,  Willy,  I'll  never  set 
loot  in  that  house  again,  for  it  just  seems  to 
me  as  if  it  was  the  gate  of  hell.  While  I  was 
listening  to  that  precious  discourse  the  vo;;  fell 
from  my  eyes,  and  now  I  can  see  the  fearful 
danger  I  was  in." 

"Well,"  said  Willy,  as  he  wiped  away  with 
his  hand  the  tears  of  joy  that  suffused  his  eyes, 
Iwas  afraid  to  see  you  going  in  that  time, 
but  now  I  see  it  was  God  himself  that  con- 
ducted us  there  at  that  moment,  so  that  you 
might  see  and  hear,  from  the  mouths  of  your 
pretended  friends,  the  object  they  had  really 
m  view      But  I'm  not  the  least  surprised,  for 
when  i  went  into  the  church  on  my  way  here, 
and  hvmv^rht  the  powerfiil  aid  of  the  Mother 
ol  Goa  .'i  saying  you  from  the  snares  laid  for 
you,  I  hadn't  yet  finished  my  prayer  when  I 
tclt  assured  that  it  would  be  granted.     No  one 
ever  comes  away  disappointed  that  prays  to 
that  loving  Mother  with  a  pure  intention.     Be- 
sides, Peter,  I  know  very  well  that  God  sent 
me  that  legacy  that  I  might  have  a  proof  of 
my  affection  to  give  you,  and  so  to  soften  your 
heart.     You  see  yourself  how  beautifully  all 
this  has  come  round  to  bring  3'ou  back  to  the 
way  of  salvation,  from  which  you  wr»e  every 
I  ^^}^S/'^^ther  away." 
-- 1  do,  I  do,  Yv iUy  i  • '  said  Peter,  fervently, 


THE    IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERl 


\. 


271 


'  and  I  sec,  too,  all  that  I  owe  to  you.     Ah 

brotlu; ,  brother,  when  you  wore  before  the  altar 

that  time  prayino:  for  me,  it's  little  thouo'its  I 

had  of  either  God  or  yun.     Now,  thank^Ciod  ' 

I  am  sensible  of  all  that  you  have  done  for  me. 

1  see  that  your  two  thousand  dollar  s  is  but  a 

small  thing,  a  mere  trifle,  com  I  with  what 

your  i^ious   prayers  have   ob^        d   for   me  • 

where  are  we  going  now  ?  "  ' 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,"  said  Willy,  with  a 

smile,  ''  I  had  planned  to  take  you  to  Fa.her 

U  nav'i  s,  on  our  way  to  Mr.  Talbot's,  for  I 

knew  t  aat  you  didn't  know  where  he  lived,  and 

I  wanted  to  try  the  effect  of  his  persuasions  on 

you.  If  mine  had  IViiled.     I  suppose  you've  no 

objection  to  come  now  ?  " 

"None  at  all,"  replied   his  brother;    "it's 
the  very  thing  I'd  wish  for." 

Great  was  the  joy  of  Father  O'llara  when 
he  learned  from  Peter  himself  the  wondrous 
change  that  divine  grace  had  operated  on  his 
soul.  "  I  told  your  reverence,"  said  the  now 
happy  Willy,  "that  our  protectress  wouldn't 
forsake  us  now.  You  see  she  has  obtained  for 
us  far  more  than  we  dared  to  ask  — blessed  be 
her  name  forever  !  " 

"Amen  !  "  responded  Dawson,  as  he  entered, 
for  he,  in  turn,  had  been  a  listener  in  the  ves- 
tibule. "  I  see  you're  surprised,  Peter,"  he 
said,  addressing  the  latter,  "  surprised  to  hear 

" '  -^"-d"«b-  "'^i"  nij  niuum,  out  don't  be 

surprised  ;  under  God,  I  am  indebted  for  my 


I  t    t] 


I  'l 


kf    ^. 


MICROCOPY   RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1.0 


1m 

116 


2.8 


■  90 


■  3.6 


Biau 


2.5 
2.2 

2.0 
1.8 


^     /APPLIED  INA^GE     ! 


nc 


1653  Eost  Main  Street 

Rochester,   New  York        14609       USA 

(716)  482  -0300 -Phone 

(716)   28R-5989  -Fax 


272 


WILLY    BURKE  ;     OR, 


conversion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  for  when  I 
was  yet  only  seeking  the  truth,  groping  about 
in  the  dark,  as  it  were,  your  brother,  there, 
prevailed  upon  me  to  invoke  her  aid ;  and  I 
can  solemnly  assure  you  that  I  was  not  slow 
in  experiencing  the  effects  of  her  intercession. 
I  am  now  a  Catholic,  thanks  be  to  God  for  all 
his  mercies  !  and  I  can  truly  say  what  I  heard 
Mr.  Weimar  say  in  his  last  moments,  viz.,  that 
I  owe  my  conversion  in  a  great  degree  to  your 
brother's  good  example,  so  beautifully  illus- 
trating Catholic  faith  and  Catholic  morality." 

Peter  could  not  speak ;  for  the  second  tfme 
that  evening  his  heart  was  too  full  for  words, 
but  he  turned  and  took  his  brother's  hand  and 
pressed  it  between  his  own  in  silent  admira- 
tion. When  he  could  speak,  his  exclamation 
was,  "My  brother!  you  are  indeed  the  wor- 
thy son  of  our  pious  parents ;  henceforward, 
with  God's  assistance,  I  will  endeavor  to  imi- 
tate their  example  and  yours.  Oh,  sir!" 
he  said,  addressing  the  priest,  "you  don't 
know  how  far  gone  I  was  in  wickedness,  —  it 
frightens  me  now  to  look  back  to  where  I  stood 
two  hours  ago,  when  my  dear,  dear  brother, 
like  the  good  shepherd,  came  after  me  and 
brought  me  home;  surely,  he  has  saved  me 
from  the  wild  beasts  that  were  lying  in  wait 
for  me.  Would  your  reverence  lend  me  a  pen 
and  ink  for  a  moment  ?  " 

He  got  the  pen  and  ink,  and  in  a  few  mo- 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.  273 

ments  he  handed  the  following  note  to  his 
brother  to  read :  — 

"Mrs.  Watkins  :   Peter  Burke— that  'silly 
Jellow,  that  Hs  not  worth  much  at  the  best* 

(according  to  your  kind  recommendation)  — 
takes  this  opportunity  to  thank  you  for  all  the 
favors  you  and  Mr.  Watkins  have  conferred 
on  him,  especially  for  the  last,  when  yoa  pro- 
posed to  do  him  the  honor  of  appearing  at  a 
great  Bible  meeting  to  '  hear  testimony  * ;  but 
as  said  Peter  has  no  wish  to  be  *  the  great  lion 
of  the  day,'  he'll  just  take  himself  off.  He 
sends  his  compliments  to  worthy  Mr.  Mor- 
timer, and  assures  him  that  his  opinion  of 

Irish  Papists  *  is  about  right,  as  far  as  him- 
self is  concerned ;— he  is  a  Catholic  at  heart, 
though  unworthy  of  being  called  so,  by  reason 
of  the  scandal  he  has  given  in  Ustening  to  such 
evil  counsellors  as  you  and  Mr.  Mortimer." 

"  Short,  but  not  very  sweet !  "  was  Willy's 
observation,  as  he  handed  the  note  to  Father 
O'Hara,  and  requested  him  to  read  it  aloud. 

After  a  little  more  conversation  with  the 
priest  and  Dawson,  the  brothers  took  their 
leave,  and  proceeded  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Tal- 
bot, where  Peter  was  kindly,  even  cordially, 
welcomed.  How  his  heart  throbbed  with  joy 
as  he  received  the  friendly  congratulations  of 

iations  which  he  knew  (and  felt)  were  sincere. 
18 


.--ra 


In 


274 


WILLT  BURKE  J    OR, 


It  was  agreed  upon,  in  the  course  of  the  pve- 
mng,  that  for  the  present  the  four  thousand 
u-T^r^^J"".  ^^  invested  in  railway  shares, 
which  Mr.  Talbot  believed  the  most  profitable 
method  of  using  it.     The   brothers  willino-ly 
acceded  to  his  proposal  to  remain  in  his  em- 
ployment for  the  time  being.  "  With  an  increase 
ot  salary^  however,"  said  the  generous  mer- 
chant.    "  Dawson's  place  is  now  vacant,  he 
havmg  been  advanced  to  that  which  had  been 
Wilson  s  ;  if  you  have  no  objection,  Peter,  vou 
can  have  it,  and  Willy  will  assist  me  in  the 
Office,^  as  I  have  now  to  take  poor  Mr.  Weimar^s 

The  proposal  was  gratefully  accepted,  as 
may  readily  be  believed ;  and  bidding  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Talbot  good-night,  Peter  and  Willy  took 
their  way  together  to  the  well-known  domicile 
where  the  good  Mrs.  Malcolm  held  sway  The 
worthy  housekeeper  was  profuse  in  h#  con- 
gratulations to  both  brothers  ;  — the  one  on  his 
recent  accession  of  wealth,  and  the  other  on 
his  escape  from  the  net  in  which  the  specious 
arts  of  the  seducer  had  held  him  for  so  lono-  a 

u?,fV  n^f  ^.^"^'^  ^^^^  ^eel'"    said   she, 
that  God  wad  na'  let  you  go  unrewarded 
even  m  this  world   Willy ;  I  beg  your  pardon 
I  should  ca'  you  Mr.  Burke,  now  that  you've 
come  mto  so  much  riches." 

"No,  no,  no,  dear  Mrs.  Malcolm,"  cried 
WiUy,  with  a  merry  laugh,  "just  call  me 
""ij  >  youc  maKe  me  ashamed  if  you'd  be- 


THE   IRISH    ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.         275 


gin  to  call  me  Mister,  for  the  title  wouldn't 
sit  easy  on  a  3^oung  lad  like  me." 

"  Ah,  I  forgot,"  said  Mrs.  Malcolm,  "  that 
a  Christian  canna*  be  proud  of  money  or  any 
earthly  good.  Vera  weel,  vera  weel  you'll 
still  be  Willy  Burke,  that's  a  guid  laddie ! " 
and  so  saying,  the  old  lady  waddled  away  to 
see  after  some  household  matter. 

Next  day  the  brothers  went  to  church  to- 
gether at  six  o'clock,  and  side  by  side  they 
returned  thanks  to  that  God  who  had  blessed 
them  bej^ond  measure.  Then  it  was  that  Peter 
Burke  felt  a  soothing  calm,  long  unknown., 
stealing  throjgh  his  mind ;  it  was  the  gentls, 
the  beneficent  influence  of  religion,  —  of  that 
religion  which  before  he  had  never  appreciated  ; 
now  he  began  in  sober  earnest  ^o  estimate  its 
value.  It  is  true  that  he  was  still  weighed 
dowOy  the  remembrance  of  his  manifold  sins, 
but  t^  grace  of  true  contrition  was  not  with- 
held from  bin.  and  he  trusted  in  the  goodness 
of  God  for  pardon  for  the  past,  and  strength 
to  avoid  sin  for  the  time  to  come.  When  Mass 
was  over,  and  they  leaving  the  church,  Peter 
told  his  brother  that  he  would  go  to  confession 
in  the  course  of  the  evening,  and  Willy,  as 
may  well  be  imagined,  heard  the  announcement 
with  unmixed  satisfaction,  for  now  he  knew 
that  his  brother  was  sincerely  converted. 

After  leaving  the  oflSce  that  evening,  the  two 
brothers  went  first  to  confession,  and  then  hast- 


276 


WILLY   BURKE  J     OR, 


"fn^sSf  ^°^*°  ''''  '"^'"^  heartsof  thei. 
^i^'^'^A  r°*  *''^^'  *"  conceive  the  rapture  with 

?°;,.    ,     y   '">*''   sprang  into  Peter's   out 
Btretched  arms,  and  fairlfsobbed  oT    The„" 
they  drew  back  to  look  at  him  again  as  thon^h 
thej-feared  the  evidence  of  theife;^s  ^ ' 

"Well  to  be  sure,"  cried  Alice,  wiping  awav 
^'*,,'f\P'-«tty  apron  her  fast^falC'telrT 
"well  to  be  sure,  but  that  is  good  news  iS 
a  fine  thing  to  hear  that  we're  all  so  rTch  now 
thanks  be  to  God  and  our  dear  brotL"  wSh  / 
But  the  best  of  all  is  Peter's  getting  e-mri 
again.     Oh,  indeed  it  is  ! "  ^      ^  ^^  ' 

"And  Peter,"  asked  Bridget,  "won't  von  he 
^o±':r  »r''"'«^^">y.-an<l won't^o" be 

at  n  nfhi*  "^"'■''''  '''"'  ""  "g'-''"'  awl  to  pray 
at  mother's  gi-ave,  too?  Oh,  Peter,  if  you'd 
see  how  long  the  gi-ass  is  o„  it  no"  -^  and 
there's  so  many  little  flowers,  wild  flowers 
growing  among  the  grass !  Now  yo„"l  cbme 
next  Sunday,  won't  you  ?" 

Here  Mrs.  Williams  entered,  and  the  whole 
story  was  gone  over  again  for  her.  GreaT  was 
the  joy  of  that  true  friend,  but  a  cloud  gS 

Us'eft  her'r  r  ^f??<^«-»g  ilea  preslntd 
itseii  to  her  mmd.     "  Vm.  af'-a^'^^  "—'n  t-_  x_. 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.         277 


ing  my  girls  from  me,"  she  said,   ^  now  that 
you  have  become  rich." 

"No,  indeed,  Mrs.  Williams,"  said  Peter 
and  Willy  together  ;  and  the  latter  added,  "  not 
on  any  account,  if  you  still  wish  to  keep  them. 
It  was  God  that  put  it  in  your  heart  to  take 
them.  You  have  been  a  mother  to  them  ;  be 
so  still,  in  God's  name,  and  with  his  blessing ! 
We  couldn't  place  them  in  better  hands,  until 
such  time  as  they're  able  to  do  for  themselves. 
By  that  time  I  hope  they'll  be  so  well  grounded 
in  their  faith,  that  there  will  be  no  danger  of 
it  slipping  from  them." 

Mrs.  Williams  was  delighted  to  hear  this, 
and  voluntarily  renewed  her  promise  to  be  a 
mother,  as  fia-  as  she  could,  to  the  interesting 
charge  that  Heaven  itself  had  committed  to 
her  keeping. 

From  Mrs.  Williams's  the  young  men  went 
to  Mrs.  O'Grady's,  and  they  found  that  worthy 
woman  and  her  family  mourning  around  the 
death-bed  of  the  husband  and  father.  Poverty 
was  in  and  around  the  dwelling,  and  amid  all 
their  sorrow  for  him  who  was  about  to  leave 
them,  his  wife  and  children  could  scarcely  wish 
that  his  life  might  be  spared,  so  great  were 
the  privations  they  were  all  called  upon  to 
bear.  This  was  no  time  for  communicating 
their  own  good  fortune,  so  the  brothers  went 
away  without  saying  a  word  about  their  own 
auuirs.  Next  da}^,  however,  Willy  Burke,  with 
Peter's  consent  (which  he  took  care  to  ask,  as 


278 


WILLT  BUKKE;    or, 


though  it  had  been  neeessaiy),  drew  fifty  dnl 
Kd"}.-'''.  ""t^  -»<»^v)'cn  thatsLe  L^t 

b«  ovtoTi  T  "■"P'^*'^'  ^^^''  "«'*'  t^y 

urougnt  joy  to  tlie  house  of  mourning      Hoof  i> 
was  there,  it  is  true,  for  poor  ZneTo'Gmd 
had  departed  in  the  course  of  thT  prS, 

defoLe'tir  frhre,:^^  '^r^'^^^ 

able  maniier  •  Ld  Yfr!  n'^^^^1  '"^  ^  ^^^P^^^- 

^ttlpd     M     *t    ''"^'"'^ss  When  we  get  thin-s 

BuT  and'a  %:r\flt  T^^J  ^-"'  ^^ 
me  and  mine  <  An°  he  L^n  ^  ''  ''""^  ''"^ 
tewill.     An' sure  In'?  hi  '•^' •"""'•>' ''^  «"'« 

a  'ss'is  L'ai?*  '-r'^"^^' 

-  -•^^  «  p.cu«  oi  ncii  silk  for  a  dress:  and 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN   IN   AMERICA.         279 


never  was  young  queen,  newly  crowned, 
prouder  of  her  jewelled  diadem  than  was  the 
worthy  Scotchwoman  of  her  dress. 

"  For,"  said  she,  "  it  is  na  the  value  o*  the 
thing  that  I  hand  account  o' ;  na,  na,  it's  the 
gratitude  o'  the  laddie  that  mak's  me  set  sae 
muckle  store  by  his  present.  You  see, 
laddies,"  addressing  the  other  young  men, 
*'  that  when  riches  came  into  his  liands'he  did 
na  forget  the  auld  Scotch  wife  nae  mair  than 
anither." 

Dawson  and  the  two  Burkes  were  hencefor- 
ward hound  in  the  strictest  bonds  of  friend- 
ship, and  all  three  made  themselves  respected 
wherever  they  were  known,  by  their  scrupulous 
observance  of  the  divine  virtues  inculcated  by 
the  Church  as  the  oracle  of  truth.  After  a 
few  years  they  commenced  business  together 
under  the  friendly  auspices  of  Mr.  Talbot,  and 
Dawson  married  Alice  Burke,  then  a  lovely 
girl  of  eighteen.  The  younger  sister  soon 
after  gave  her  hand  to  a  wealthy  planter  from 
the  South  (a  connection  of  Mr.  Talbot's) ,  who 
had  been  attracted  not  less  by  her  modest  and 
retiring  virtues  than  by  her  personal  charms. 

About  six  years  after  Mr.  Weimar's  death, 
and  just  after  the  marriage  of  Bridget  Burke, 
Peter  happened  to  take  up  a  newspaper  one 
evening,  but  suddenly  he  let  it  fall,  exclaim- 
ing:  "How  terrible  are  thy  judgments,  O 
Lord  !     Greiat  art  thon  in  f>iTrmoT.nxr  ov. " 

ness  to  those  who  love  and  serve  th 


! 


;v/\^u." 


280 


WILLY  burke;   or, 


:Xl  -*"°"  ''"^'   ^  ^'''''  "  ^"^''^tising   the 

he'htd^'rl"  r/^  ^"'^■'  '^"^^  '^ "l^^P  «igl>,  when 

Peter    "al^i.**"^   Paragraph  pointed"  ouT  by 

■    ;  f!fL  "^  •  P""""'  miserable  Wilson !  what 

a  late   was   vours  f      tv.;«   «  /    V   *^"'^'' 

entPrpH   if  o„  ^^*  'i'»<l  long  since 

entered,  it  seems,  on  a  sea-farino-  life  nnrf  hi» 

stap  was  just  coming  into  harbo?  here  when' 
fire  broke  out  on  board.    The  greater  mr?  o? 
the  crew  escaped  from  the  burnlLt  vessel  bnt 
fn    t  TerHuTti  "T'  "-^'^  S  off' 

sald^'peteT"^"  tYs^'h  'T  ">'  ''»*«'  *-'" 
heaven  ^M'S  ^^^^ rttdml  mTGo^ 

s^[a;zcrcrucrtS 

fh^^      l*^^*   ^^^^^    Catholic    boy   who   k 
thit>wn  at  an  earlv  a<yp  n«  i,;«  -^  ^^ 

SrK'^^tMtro^'-Periug  with  the  ."^ 
^7  tale  is  now  at  an   o«^     t  u-,-_ 


THE   IRISH   ORPHAN    IN   AMERICA.  281 

deavored  4o  delineate  for  my  young  readers 
the  part  which  a  Catholic  boy  is  called  upon 
to  act  in  society,  and  have  shown  to  the  best 
of  my  ability  the  beneficial  results  which  mav 
accrue  from  the  fulfilment  of  his  duty,  not 
only  as  regards  himself,  but  those  who  are  un- 
happily wandfering  in  the  wilderness  without 
the  pale  of  the  Church.     I  have   sought   to 
place  Religion  before  the  youthful  reader  as 
she  really  is,  mild,  and  cheerful,  and  softenino- 
in  her  influence.     Would  that  I  could  but  paint 
her  even  one  half  as  lovely  as  she  is,  and  the 
portrait  would  suflSce  to  attract  and  attach  the 
young  to  her  service  ! 

€ 

THE   END. 


